


The Dark Grimm Fairy Tales

by Niamph



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Bukkake, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Time Blow Jobs, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Humiliation, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Mild Blood, Mind Control, Minor Violence, Multi, Nipple Clamps, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Other, Porn, Public Blow Jobs, Rape, Smut, Suspension, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Rape, Transformation, Vaginal Fisting, Watersports, beastiality, cumflation, monster cock, porn with some plot...not really...ok a bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-22 13:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14309214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niamph/pseuds/Niamph
Summary: Short, dark and pornographic re-imaginings of some of the Grimm's Fairytales.  Please read the tags before reading!





	1. The Rape of Rapunzel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I wrote this first chapter on my phone late at night after a particularly spicy dream...so looking back it isn't the best written thing I've ever come up with. I don't proof read anything I'm not selling, that being said...the later chapters are a little better formed, having been generated whilst I was coffee fuelled and seated in front of my desktop :)

Rapunzel lay back into the dense nest of pillows on the sumptuous four poster bed, and closed her eyes against the dappled light spilling in through the single large window. The mid afternoon sun heated her skin through her dark velvet dress, and she felt a rivulet of moisture running between her pert breasts to pool at her navel. She'd seen him again, the dark haired prince with the silvery crown a top his head, astride a glorious black stallion bedecked with silver chains and glittering midnight coloured gemstones. He was tall, taller even than Dame Gothel, broad at the shoulders and narrow at the hips. Since the first time she had seen him nearly 2 weeks ago, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. She'd never seen a man in the flesh before, but she was certain that was what he was. He looked just like the princes from the tapestries and paintings decorating her bedchamber, and she was desperate to find out more about him. This morning he had looked up at her tower, and although she knew he could not see her due to the enchantments placed by Dame Gothel, his eyes seemed to meet hers and she felt an almost hungry tightening low down in her body that she could not name.

Dame Gothel had just left, and Rapunzel could still taste the saltiness of her on her lips. The Sorceress visited most days since Rapunzel had become a woman, to extract the price for Rapunzel's parents misdeeds. Some days she would come and cut some of Rapunzels long platinum blonde hair to use for her potions, and other days she would sit back in the loveseat under the window, her dress raised and her pale legs parted, and clutch Rapunzel's hair painfully at the base of her skull whilst she forced Rapunzel to lap and suck at her fleshy pink folds.

Rapunzel didn't know why Dame Gothel seemed to enjoy this so much, but now with the memory of the Prince's face in her mind's eye and the clenched warm feeling under her skirts, her curiosity overcame her. She reached down and raised her skirts, exposing her tight blonde curls to the warm summer air. She was wetter than she had ever felt before, and she gasped as she parted those folds by spreading two cool fingers, and found the taught bud that Dame Gothel had taught her about.

***

Dame Gothel watched Rapunzel, fury building in the pit of her stomach. The dirty little bitch. The slut. She watched Rapunzel most days, her obsession with the child she had taken as payment from the farming couple only grew as she matured into the petite slender woman with apple sized perky tits and round firm arse. She knew Rapunzel didn't know that the large mural on the canopy of the bed above her actually was Gothel's portal to her bed chamber, allowing her to view Rapunzel from her cavern on the coast. She watched as Rapunzel's skin flushed and sweat beaded on her brow. Her back arched as her fingers continued to circle her turgid clit, and her slick fluids coated her inner thighs. Dame Gothel wanted to give her her first orgasm, and had great plans for it. Now the greedy little slut was taking it for herself, whilst feigning innocence during her visits. Then again, could she really blame her for touching herself after she had just had her tongue deep inside Dame Gothel's own grasping cunt? She leaned forward, to hear the muffled sounds making their way through the portal. Rapunzel was gasping and moaning, her lips forming words. Dame Gothel leaned in further, but recoiled back as she heard her words. "Oh! My Prince! Yess Mmmphh".

She stood up. By God the girl would pay for fantasizing about a man, a Prince no less! After all Gothel had done for her, the clothes on her back, the food in her stomach! A black rage greater than any she had ever felt before grew and grew inside of her, and the air crackled with her dark power. A curse rose like bile in her throat, and with a scream she spat it forth through the portal at Rapunzel. "With each day you will be compelled to sing, and with each word you sing your hair will grow. Any who hear your song will be lost to this dark curse and ascend the tower to claim you and ruin you."

Gothel sat down tired, a smile playing at her lips. She couldn't wait to watch the punishment begin.

***

Rapunzel awoke cold and yawning. The sky outside was black, and she had fallen asleep exhausted full clothed without her coverlet. Tears had dried on her face, leaving a tight feeling around her eyes which only exacerbated the tension headache that had been plaguing her this last week. For the last seven days, for hours and hours each day she had started singing. It started with a feeling of pressure in her throat, which if resisted gave her sharp pains in the chest until she eventually could hold it in no longer and the song burst forth. It was the same each time, the voice not her own, lyrical and multi-layered. Within 5 minutes of singing she had felt the heaviness of her head. At first she thought it was a simple headache, but she soon realised it was her hair. It now pooled on the floor of her room, and she'd take to draping a large portion of it out of the window to allow her floorspace to move about.

She moved to grab a throw from the basket at the foot of the bed, and wrapped it around herself. Almost immediately she felt the familiar pressure building in her throat. She knew better now than to hold it in, and with an resigned shrug of the shoulders, she closed her eyes, opened her mouth and began to sing. After what felt like hours but had likely only been minutes, her eyes flew open as she felt a sharp tug on her hair that was slung out the high tower window. The tug came again, and whilst she could not stop her singing, she did manage to get up and run to the window. Far below her was her dark haired prince. He had her hair fisted in both hands and was pulling hard. looking up at the tower with single minded determination. She screamed internally as she realised her hair was now sliding of the floor and the bed and quickly disappearing out of the window. It would not be long until his pulls in her being tugged out of the window and falling to her death. Scrambling, she rushed to wrap her hair several times around the large central column of the room. As soon as she did this, the hair out of the window pulled suddenly taught, then began to twitch and jerk occasionally.

After a few tense seconds, she saw a large hand covered in black leather suddenly grip the sill of the window. Following the hand came it's partner, and then the heavily muscled arms, head and torso of the dark haired Prince. As soon as he had hauled himself through the opening, her song abruptly halted. She was breathing heavily, and regarded him from her position on the floor behind the column. He was huge, his muscles rippling and twitching beneath his dark tunic. He stood taller than the top of the large window, which she knew to be well over 6 and a half feet from the floor of the bedroom. His shoulders were tense and hunched, his head down. She noticed he was panting harshly, probably from the climb up the tower.

"Are ... are you alright?" She asked softly, concern and curiosity overtaking her alarm.

The Prince half raised his head to regard her. She gasped. His eyes were all black, like someone had taken them and replaced them with two pieces of polished onyx. She stared, frozen in place by a growing dread. At first she didn't realise where the noise was coming from, didn't recognise it. However as he took one slow menacing step forward towards her, and then another, she realised it was him. He was growling.

The Prince suddenly rushed at her, grabbing a fist full of her hair close to her scalp and dragging her up from the floor to a kneeling position before him. She cried out, tears instantly prickling her eyes at the burning pain of her hair being pulled. She sobbed when his other hand unlace his breeches, and brought forth something monstrous. She knew it was his cock, although she had never seen one before. It was thick and seemed to pulse heavily. Thick veins ran the length of it and it finished with a dark purple head that seemed to her to be the same size as Dame Gothel's angry fists. Rapunzel's stomach dropped at the sight; somehow she instinctively knew his intentions and she fought against his grip, thrashing and tearing at his hand that held her hair. 

"Please don't!" She cried, but his growling only grew louder and deeper. "Please, I oompgphh!"

As she had opened her mouth to speak, he had taken his opportunity and thrust his cock deep into her mouth. He held her head to his pelvis as he thrust viciously in and out of her throat. Rapunzel gagged and tried to scream but couldn't. His cock filled and stretched the whole width of her throat and she couldn't breath. She tried desperately to take a breath but none would come. Her panic rose and rose, as he continued to skull fuck her mercilessly. His heavy balls slapped against her chin and neck, and his evil eyes bored into hers. Rapunzel no longer felt like gagging, having adjusted to the sensation, and now it felt like his cock was sliding even further into her throat, past the part she could consciously control when she swallowed. Black spots began to appear in the edge of her vision and her head swam. Still the thick shaft of the Prince pounded her throat. Soon her vision had tunnelled until all she could she were his black eyes and wicked grin. He forced his cock in further, until her lips kissed the mound of his groin. The last thing Rapunzel saw were his eyes slitted in pleasure, as she felt a hot jet of salty cum flood her throat and pour into her stomach.

***

Gothel had been watching from the portal, but had grown too excited and had transported herself to the tower room. She arrived, invisible, just as the Prince stuffed his engorged member fully into Rapunzel's throat and came with a roar. Rapunzel had lost consciousness but still the Prince came into her, filling her stomach before the thick white liquid came back up the unconscious throat of Rapunzel and shot out of her mouth around the base of his cock, and out of her nose. He pulled out with a sated sigh, and went to curl up on the floor.  
“Oh no you don’t boyo.” Gothel murmured, and she whispered an incantation at the Prince, which hit him square in the chest.  
***  
Rapunzel came round groggily and squeezed her eyes shut against the light, at first blissfully forgetting what had just transpired. Her throat was sore, and her head ached. Her breasts thighs and back hurt and she didn’t know why. She tried to roll over but found she could not. Opening her eyes she could see her bed and the window, and looking down she could see…the floor? Reality came to her then sharply, and she screamed into the gag she now realised was shoved deep in her throat.  
She was suspended from the ceiling of the bedchamber by thick platinum blonde ropes…wait, was that her hair?? She twisted her head round and caught sight of herself in the room’s only small mirror. Her hair was now shoulder length, and the ropes (undoubtedly fashioned from her cut hair) were wrapped around her torso and pelvis in a kind of harness, which suspended her from a beam in the ceiling. Smaller ropes gape down from the harness and had been tied tightly about the base of her breasts, which were now red and swollen to twice their normal size and exquisitely tender. She gave out a despairing moan when she felt a tug at those breasts as she moved and swayed slightly in the air. Two small rocks were tied at the end of two thin lengths of rope, which in turn tied to wooden pegs which had been clamped onto her now grossly stretched and purple nipples. As she moved, it set them into a pendulum motion which caused pain, and to her alarm, pleasure to arch from her nipples down to her cunt.  
Suddenly, a thick hand slapped her exposed arse, leaving what felt like a burning brand. She cried out at the shock of it and then at the relentless tug and pull of her clamped nipples. The same hand grabbed her by the thigh and pulled her back. Looking over her shoulder she saw him, the Prince, naked behind her. His skin was paler than it had been before, and black veins writhed beneath his skin. He was taller, now at least 8 feet, and his head brushed the ceiling of the bed chamber.  
He smiled at her, and she saw that his once beautiful teeth were now long razor sharp fangs. Stepping into her, he pressed his face against her exposed skit and breathed deeply, before exhaling hot hair onto her, causing her to shudder in unwanted anticipation. She felt a cool slick pressure then, and recoiled as she realised that a slimy black tongue had emerged from his mouth and was probing at her folds. She moaned wantonly, ashamed of herself, as he found her eager clit and circled it lazily, building up a feeling of intense pressure inside her. All at once he stopped, and she whimpered in relief but also frustration. She was cut off however, as suddenly his tongue was forced inside her slick pussy, punching through her virgin barrier with a short burst of pain, and then beginning to wriggle and gyrate inside her. She panted into the gag as her orgasm began to build. His thick tongue was almost as long as his cock, and she felt it reach inside her to circle around her cervix. She didn’t care when some cruel magic in his saliva began to dilate her cervix. The pleasure building within her was too great.  
Without warning the tongue withdrew with a plop. Her soaking pussy was left exposed to the air, cold and empty. By now she was past the point of caring about what was right, or the fears of before. She just wanted the pleasure of being filled and stretched. No sooner than she had that thought, something unthinkably large and blunt pressed against her opening. She moaned and tried to press back into it. Looking over her shoulder she realised it was his cock, somehow magically enlarged even further and now matching in size to the Prince’s own meaty forearm and closed fist. Her fear came rushing back and she fought him, but it was no use. Effortlessly he held her to him, and then began to push inside her. She screamed, feeling as though she were being split into two. He shuddered to a stop as her pussy clamped around him. He pushed and pushed but could not get in any further, and her pleasure and pain mingled overwhelmingly. With a growl, he reached forward with both hands and suddenly and punishingly pulled down hard on the ropes handing from her nipples, rippling the clamps off forcefully. As she screamed he roared and pushed inside her to the hilt, the head of his throbbing cock thrust through her now fully dilated cervix and into her womb. She sobbed hysterically, not knowing if this was bliss or agony. At first he moved in an out of her slowly, his cock dragging on her internal walls. As she became wetter and wetter, his pace quickened, and soon he was ramming into her relentlessly. As he pistoned in and out of her, if she looked down she could see the head of his cock bulging against her lower abdomen with each thrust. She was stretched as wide open as it was possible to get, completely unable to even squeeze down on the massive cock filling her because she was at maximum capacity. Her moans grew louder and louder, in time with the Prince’s vicious thrusting. Suddenly his cock thickened massively, and she though she could feel something tear inside her. Suddenly a huge juddering spasm rocked the Prince’s body, and Rapunzel felt spurt after spurt of hot thick cum begin to jet out of the end of his cock to fill her womb. The sensation was enough to tip her over the edge, and she came herself with a shout. After about 5 minutes the Prince was finished cumming, and pulled out of her. Immediately cum began to pour out of her now gaping pussy.

At this point Gothel made herself known.  
“Hello Rapunzel, dearest” she said with a snigger.  
Rapunzel barely looked up. She was drooling and still moaning. Gothel stood behind her and laughed as she looked into Rapunzel’s pussy which was still stretched wide open and clenching and unclenching around thin air. Rapunzel’s abdomen was massively distended and heavy with cum, she looked about 8 month pregnant. However even, as she watched, Gothel noticed cum continuing to pour out.  
“Hmm we can’t have that.” She murmured slyly.  
She cast about and then caught sight of the round door knob to the privy chamber. Laughing evily, she pulled it from the door, and enlarged it with just a touch of magic until it was the size of a small melon. She then walked to Rapunzel and shoved the cold metal sphere unceremoniously into her pussy. It lodged in her cervix and immediately stemmed the flow of cum.  
Gothel regarded her punishment with satisfaction. She would leave Rapunzel like this overnight, she decided, and return to continue punishing her in the morning. She would bring the Prince back with her too. Who knew what kind of monster her curse would have turned him into by then?


	2. The Ravishing of Red Riding Hood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red riding hood gets drilled by the BIG bad wolf.  
> WARNING: there is fantasy beastiality at the end

Red ran her fingers through her long curly flame coloured hair as she stepped barefoot into the forest clearing.  She sighed as her whole body relaxed, a great sense of peace overshadowing all her previous tension and worries.  This. This was why she visited Old Grandmutter Herg daily, not some misplaced sense of altruism or duty, but this escape from the mundane cog work of her daily life.

The soft moss beneath her feet was dry and compressed lightly as she padded over it to the edge of the large crystalline pool at the centre of the clearing.  Beautiful and exotic flowers bloomed here, their faces turned towards the sun above.  Red sent a quick prayer of thanks to whatever deity continued to keep this place undiscovered to all but her and stepped out of her green travel cloak and dress to stand nude in the speckled light of the forest.

Stepping into the pool, she felt like tiny jolts of static were jumping from pore to pore across her freckled skin.  Her arms and  legs, tired from the morning’s heavy lifting in the Castle’s breakfast bakery (why the King felt he needed a separate bakery with its own staff just for his morning croissant she did not know), felt instantly renewed at the touch of the water, and before she knew it Red was diving beneath the surface, her whole body and mind reinvigorated by the magical properties of the pool.

After some hours, she reluctantly pulled herself out of the pool to lie sunning herself on one of the large flat rocks on the southern side of the pool.  She allowed her eyes to close, thinking wickedly about all the things she’d like to say to the King and his stupid little fucking croissants if she were brave enough. 

She roused to a sensation that had the hairs on the back of her arms and neck standing on end.  Anyone who has ever felt like they were being watched can attest to the eerie prickly itch at the back of your mind, the quickening of the pulse, the unsurpassable urge to cast about looking for whose gaze is resting upon you.

It didn’t take Red long to see the _fucking gigantic_ wolf stood across the pool from her.  At the shoulder it was taller than she was, it’s fur was grey and mottled, and one side of its mouth was raised in a half snarl as it stared directly into her eyes.  Time stopped for Red.  _Fuuuuck those teeth were big._   She’d heard of the wolf of this forest, and he was no ordinary beast.  He had once been a man, a powerful sorcerer if you believed the wild tales in the village, who had crossed the old King and been transformed into this great evil creature by the King’s entire garrison of witches and wizards.

This had all been before she was born of course, and she suspected now he was more animal than man.  Certainly, the low growl rumbling from his chest seemed to verify her suspicion.  Heart in mouth, Red backed away from the wolf, still nude.  She really, really didn’t want to get eaten.

“Alright Mr Wolf” she muttered in a cold sweat, “You want to eat me, I know, but there are plenty of other tasty animals in the woods, and I have an old Grandmother to look after.” This wasn’t strictly true, everyone called the old hag in the cottage at the far side of the forest Grandmutter, but she was actually just a former village elder, cast out due to her growing eccentricities and forgetfulness.  Red didn’t think the wolf needed to know this little technicality however.

The wolf cocked his head to the side and took a step forward ominously.  Red didn’t even wait to analyse if this was a fucking bad idea or not, as soon as her back struck a tree at the edge of the clearing she turned and bolted.  She arrived back at the village dirty and sweating, pulling in great gasps of air as she sprinted, naked as the day she was born through the village (to the great delight of most of the village men) and back to her small dwelling near the castle.

***

Lucar stretched lazily and allowed himself a wolfish grin.  He’d known someone had been coming to this pool for some time, for he had been catching a whiff of vanilla and sugar on the moss and rocks of this place for at least the last month.  He usually slept during the day and woke only at night to hunt, but something had woken him that day whilst the sun was still high in the sky.  Trotting to the edge of the pool to take a drink, he had seen her.

She was tall and willowy, maybe about five feet eight inches at his guess, with long curled hair the colour of sunset, the green eyes of a cat, and pale freckled skin.  Her breasts were large, more than a handful he thought wistfully, back when he had owned a pair of hands of course.  His gaze tracked down her luscious curves and came to rest at the junction of her thighs.  A closely cropped thatch of fire red hair nestled there, and as she moved slightly on the rock she was lying on, he caught a glimpse of the soft pink petals of flesh concealed within.

He wanted to mate her.  The urge came to him like a rock in the stomach, and he took a step forward, not thinking.  Unfortunately, she must have heard him, because she shot to her feet and found his gaze instantly.  He’d tried to reassure her by staying fairly still (falsely of course, his little prey almost definitely wouldn’t like the plans for her rapidly forming in his mind) but after a short exchange she had turned and bolted, unfortunately in the direction of safety.  After a few short strides she was through the magical barrier the King’s magic wielders had erected around the castle and village, which lay south of the pool.

“Mr Wolf” she had called him.  He shook his head and lay down at the edge of the pool.  The moniker felt innocent, like something from a children’s tale, and that certainly was not him.  Stretching in the fading sunlight, he closed his eyes.  He would find her tomorrow, and before the end of the day he would be breeding her.  He didn’t know what she would shout out as his cock thrust into her that first time, but he would be damned if it was Mr Fucking Wolf.

***

The next day the wench did not return to the pool, and Lucar realised that humans were not like the stupid forest animals he had grown used to hunting.  Cursing he realised she would likely avoid this place for the rest of her days.  His cock throbbed painfully with the need to drive into her.  He remembered her saying she had a grandmother to look after, but that didn’t tell him anything as there were hundreds of old crones in the villages surrounding the castle.   Why had she been in the forest?  He sat there for some time, tail twitching restlessly, before an idea tugged at his mind.  There was an old woman on the Northern border of the forest, in a hut outside the King’s protection.  Could it be her she was visiting?  The more he thought of it, the more he realised it must be true, as the old woman was too crazed to provide for herself and yet always was well fed and kempt.  Lucar stood suddenly and grinned, the little vixen had lied to him, for he knew the old woman had no family.  She had been a young teenager when he had first been trapped in this form by the last king, and he knew that she harboured a secret desire for the fairer sex and had never known the touch of a man.

He turned and left the clearing at a run, arriving shortly after at the old crone’s hut.  As it often was, the door was ajar, and he nosed his way in, finding her asleep in a large bed in a back room.  Lucar had been drinking from the pool every day since his exile, and now power thrummed through his veins.  It was only a fraction of what he had once wielded, but still it was enough for this.  He placed his paws on the chest of the old woman, feeling her crumpling ribs cave slightly under his weight as she squawked in pain and terror. Slowly but surely he drew her life force into himself, and all too soon he had it all, leaving her body a husk on the bed. 

It had really been a huge oversight on the part of the Kings of this realm to leave the pool outside their barrier, but it was one he was endlessly grateful for as he used the old woman’s energy to start the transformation he needed.   A terrible anticipation built in him, and the cock of his new form was instantly hard as granite. The pretty red haired prey wouldn’t know she walked into the jaws of the wolf until they closed around her.

***

Red approached the hut of Grandmutter Herg with no small sense of relief at having made it through the woods without encountering the wolf again.  She felt pretty stupid retelling her story to her best friend Ivy this morning as she kneaded the soft dough.  Ivy had listened disapprovingly, before berating her for dallying in the forest alone, naked no less!  What had she thought would happen, if it wasn’t being eaten by a wild animal she could have been raped and killed by bandits.  Didn’t she know the whole village were talking about her now?  She needed to watch her back, as several of the more unsavoury characters at the tavern had been talking about paying her a visit now she had so graciously shared her naked form with them.

Red shook off the humiliating memory of running naked through the village and walked into the hut.  The door was wide open, which did not worry her, and she set her heavy basket of supplies down on the heavy oak table in the kitchen area. 

“Grandmutter?” she called, taking today’s cloak (a red one bought for her by an ex-lover) and hanging it on the back of the front door which she closed behind her.  “It’s Red, I’ve brought some food and new soaps.”

There was no reply, so Red strode into the back room and was brought to a stop by what she saw there.  The old woman’s body lay still on the bed, seeming much more diminished and dry than she would have expected considering she had seen her alive 2 days ago.  Red bit her lip.  She felt no great love towards the demanding old woman, but still she supressed a pang of guilt at the thought that the old woman might have expired due to her neglect.

Oh well, no use getting all cut up about it, Red reasoned.  She must have been about 100 years old anyway.  She’d never been particularly nice to Red even when she had been younger and had all of her marbles, and Red remembered many a time as a youth the old woman has swatted her backside with a cane just for walking near her too loudly.  Red turned and walked out of the back bedroom and into the kitchen again.  She picked up the basket (no use letting good provisions go to waste after all) and went to open the front door.

A hand, more than twice the size of her own slammed down onto the door in front of her, forcing it closed with a crash.  Red screeched, dropping the basket, and tried to turn, but her body was pinned unceremoniously to the door by the man behind her.  The air was squeezed out of her lungs, and she felt something larger than she had ever felt nestled into the cleft of her buttocks through her dress.  Ah, crap. She inched a hand lower, trying to reach the dagger she carried under her skirts, but the man behind her actually growled and pushed against her harder, his breath hot on her neck as he reached forwards and grabbed both of her hands, pinning them against the door.

Red wasn’t some pretty little virgin, she’d fucked a few of the kitchen boys as a teenager and had a couple of lovers as an adult.  Her mouth went dry with the unwelcome knowledge that…that thing which was now being ground rhythmically into her arse through her clothes, was attached to someone who didn’t seem to have a care for her own wishes.  The man rumbled low in his throat and nipped the back of her neck, and despite herself, Red felt the first warm flush of arousal spread like an inkstain down from that spot to pool deep in her pussy.

“Who are you?”  She asked (what do you want seemed a bit rhetorical at this stage).

She felt his hot lips against her ear.  “My name is Lucar, you might as well know it as you will be screaming it in pleasure momentarily.”  She couldn’t place his accent, but his words sent shockwaves through her body and caused her pussy to clench involuntarily.

In Red’s opinion, there was nothing wrong with a little roll in the hay every once in a while, and though a small voice (probably Ivy’s) shouted “danger!” from the back of her mind, she licked her lips and decided to have some fun for once.

She thrust her bottom out behind her to press into the Lucar’s pelvis and heard him groan behind her.  Suddenly, he switched to just one hand gripping her wrists easily, whilst the other hand went to his pocket.  She still hadn’t seen him, but she could feel he was tall, broad and well muscled.  There was a cold pressure at the nape of her neck which made her freeze, before a wrenching tug and ripping sound had her dress falling down to the floor, cut straight down the back from top to bottom.

He made an animal sound of approval, and leaned into her again.  The hand that had been holding the knife now reached around to pinch one of her dark pink nipples between thumb and index finger, and roll it back and forth experimentally.  Red mewled, and tried to rub herself against him, but he held her fixed in place.

“I should have known you’d be ready for me under that dress.” He said through gritted teeth into her ear.

Mmm.  She was more ready than he knew.  Red could feel the moisture running down her thighs, and feel the tightness down below as he inexplicably brought her close to cumming just by pinching her nipples and pressing his erection into her arse.  Lucar let go of her hands suddenly, holding her tightly to him by one breast whilst his other hand dived down to probe the soaking wet folds of her pussy. 

As he flicked a finger over her clit, Red’s legs gave way beneath her and he scooped her up, holding her pressed against his abdomen, facing away from him and riding the large hand which cupped her sex.  Two fingers dived inside her and instantly hit her g-spot whilst his thumb continued to roll over and around her slippery clit.  Red gave herself into the sensation of his fingers rotating about inside her, opening and closing to stretch her pussy open.  Before she knew it, she was cumming hard around his fingers, her pussy clamping down and seeking to pull his hand in further.

Lucar gave a short laugh of masculine triumph before setting her down on the carpet on her back.  She got her first good look at him and by the God’s was he something to behold.  His silver hair was fairly short, but quite messy.  His eyes were a strange colour, such a light amber brown that they almost seemed to be illuminated from within.  His face and body were all hard lines, except his mouth which looked soft and inviting.  The same mouth was currently bearing down towards her, and she cried out and arched her back as it closed around one of her nipples, lapping and sucking at the small bud until it was swollen and bruised.  He then turned his attentions to the other, clamping his teeth onto it and pulling whilst Red writhed about in ecstasy, watching her nipple stretched to three times its normal length.

He positioned himself on top of her, and Red welcomed the sensation of his blunt-headed cock nudging between her folds.  She pushed back hard, and he sheathed himself in her pussy with a groan.  Red whimpered at the sensation of being stretched.  She’d not been with a man for a long time, and never one with a cock quite as big as this.

He began to thrust violently in and out of her, causing her to let out short staccato gasps as he filled her forcefully again and again.  The room was filled with the sucking and squelching sounds of well lubricated rough sex, and with Red’s pants and moans.  Her breasts undulated with his rhythmic thrusting, and her tide of pleasure rose and rose as he continued to pound her wet and eager pussy.

Lucar grabbed Red’s chin hard and forced her to look him in the eyes and he continued to drill into her.  It was intense, but when she tried to look away he pinched her jaw hard and made her look again.

“Look me in the eyes woman,” he growled as he crushed his pelvis against hers again and again.  “You are mine now.  You will know no other but me for the rest of your days.”

He was stretching and filling her and a brutal pace, and Red found herself agreeing with him - how could she go back to the men of the village after this?

“Say my name.” he commanded as he drove into her again and again.

Red moaned, ignoring his words, lost to the sensation of her rising orgasm.

He growled at her disobedience and slapped her hard across the breasts, which were still wet with his saliva.  The mixture of pleasure and pain was too much for Red and she suddenly and catastrophically came, her pussy mindlessly squeezing and pulling at the rock hard cock inside her.

“Lucar!” she cried out as she lost herself to him. He roared and speared into her one final brutal time, bruising her cervix.  He came as suddenly as she had, and the force of his cum exploding into her pussy which was clamped tight around his shaft caused it to instantly spray back out at pressure, covering her thighs and his balls.  Red ran her fingers through his hair and smiled.

“That was definitely something.” She murmured sleepily.  He rolled off her and scooped her to lie on his chest.  She fell asleep to him moving his hands over her body again, whispering in some ancient language which sounded both beautiful and deadly.

***

Lucar knew the old woman’s life force wouldn’t last him long, and to be honest he was surprised he had held out this long.  Now with the red-haired woman in his arms, and his cock lying flaccid and wet, he knew his time as a man was growing short.  Maybe he could hunt more bandits in the woods, steal their life force too and somehow lure her back to him.  He shook his head bitterly, what reason would she have to come into his woods again now the old woman lay dead and her favourite bathing spot now came with the risk of meeting a hideous wolf.

He had planned to let her go, he really had, but as she lay sleeping in his arms he became possessed with a great resolve.  She was HIS, and he didn’t see why he had to give her up.  That being said, he knew she wouldn’t be able to take his other form without serious injury, and he lacked the power now to transfigure her into a she-wolf.

He made up his mind and began the chant to use the last of his power to at least prepare her human body to withstand his permanent form.  She sighed in her sleep and he smiled in anticipation.  Once the spell was complete he took her outside and laid her belly down across a tall tree stump, with her legs dangling over the side and her arse and pussy exposed to the air.  With the last of his strength, he lashed her to him with several lengths of soft rope he had found in the house, and then covered her with his body as the change took him in its steely grip.

***

Red awoke to hot wet heat and pleasure coming from her pussy.  That was her first sensation.  The second was discomfort.  Splinters from the tree stump she was lying over were rubbing her sensitive nipples, and ropes were knotted around her torso and abdomen, pinning her arms by her sides.  She felt some of the ropes were attached to something behind her, and were being stretched backwards as it pulled down to.. Oh!  A long flattened lava hot tongue darted inside her pussy, causing her to cry out.

Red looked around, not knowing what to expect.  Her gaze landed on a huge hairy wolf, larger than any creature she had seen, and its head was.  Oh my Gods!  Red thrashed and strained at her bindings but it was to no avail.  The large wolf, which she now recognised as the one from the clearing, was lapping at her pussy, alternating sandpaper strokes of her clit and vulva, with penetrating thrusts deep inside her as he lapped up Lucar’s cum.

Red began to cry.  She might like to sleep around a little bit but she didn’t fuck animals, abso-fucking-lutely not!  Try as she might to escape however, she was trapped under the wolf as it continued its ministrations.  He pussy began to contract and squeeze down on the tongue, much to her shame.  The wolf growled and pushed his tongue in deeper, so deep that his wet nose thrust between her arse cheeks and into her tight arsehole.  Red cried out in alarm as the wolf snorted hot air into her arse, all the while lapping and stroking her needy pussy with its relentless tongue.

With an agonised cry, Red found her self orgasming into the wolf’s mouth.  In tears, she turned over her shoulder as he pulled his snout away and gritted out, “There you fucking prick, now fuck off and leave me alone!”.

But the wolf wasn’t done with her.

Red felt two giant paws slam down either side of her head as the huge wolf mounted her.  His hot belly fur pressed into her back and she could feel his body shaking slightly as he wagged his tail back and forth.  She screamed in earnest as she felt the arrowhead shaped tip of his cock nudging against her arsehole.

“No don’t!” she yelped, as with a snap of his hips, the wolf tried to force the cock into her arse.  The tearing sensation was instant and excruciating.  It felt like he was trying to fuck her with a knife not a dick as he continued trying to bury the head in deeper.  He lapped the back of her neck, whining, as he struggled to gain any ground.  After a few minutes of pure terror and the worst pain she had ever felt, he finally gave up, his swollen head popping out of her arse with a loudly audible slurping sound.

Instantly she felt it at the entrance to her pussy.  Not even sure she wanted to see what awaited her, she looked over her shoulder again as he withdrew to position himself better.  She wished he hadn’t.  His wolf cock was easily 14 inches long, and three or four inches in diameter.  It was slimy and pink the whole length of it, with a sharp arrow shaped head and veiny purple base before it disappeared back into his furry sheath.  His balls would have been too big to cup in her hands, and were drawn up tight to his body with need.

Red whimpered, resigned to her fate as she felt his teeth close around the back of her neck, not breaking the skin.  His drool slithered around his open maw onto her skin, and he began trying to cram his enormous cock inside her pussy.  The head went in fairly easily, being narrower than the rest of it, and he began to slam it in and out of her pussy which was still sopping wet with his saliva.  Even just the head of his cock seemed to reach in almost to her cervix, and Red found herself against her will enjoying the sensation of being fucked like a bitch by the wolf.

Her enjoyment faltered as her inner walls relaxed slightly, and the wolf, growling, took the opportunity to stuff her pussy full of more of his engorged shaft.  Red screamed as he pounded into her, not sure if in pleasure or pain.  She could feel the tip of his cock moving around in what felt like her abdomen.  She was stretched beyond imagining, beyond what she thought was physically possible.  Why was she not torn in half and bleeding?  How could a cock be 10 inches deep inside her without doing some damage?

The wolf picked up the pace, panting hot fetid breath over her neck and causing her to arch involuntarily into his thrusting pelvis.  His cock slammed into her again and again, but still not to the hilt she thought gratefully.

The wolf howled and unexpectedly smashed his dick into her.  He was stopped jarringly by something which crashed into the entrance of her pussy like a punch, and caused her to yell out in pain.  Looking down she screamed again in fear.  The base of his cock and swollen up like a sphere of hard purple flesh.  The base was now 6 or 7 inches in diameter and covered with small raised ridges of flesh before it tapered to the shaft which was still buried into her pussy.  Red moaned.  She knew enough from seeing dogs in the village mate to know this was the wolf’s knot.

The pressure of the knot against the opening of her pussy grew and grew and the wolf tried to force it inside her.  Her pussy was burning, surely stretched to the point of destruction.  The wolf grunted and thrust back and forth, and despite herself Red began to pump her hips a bit as well, the sensation of climax building inside her. 

With no warning, the knot suddenly pushed past her defences and the wolf buried himself inside the to the hilt, his big balls slamming hard against her clit.  At the same time, Red felt the point end of his cock spear through the hole of her cervix and send hot jets of thick cum directly into her womb.  The wolf didn’t pull out but continued to roll his hips in small circular motions as the impossibly large cock continued to pour hot cum into Red.  His rough balls grazed her clit again, and then she was taken in the grips of a terrifying and soul-destroying orgasm.

A few minutes later, when Red came to her senses, she realised the wolf was still lying on top of her, cock buried deep in her pussy.

“Get off me you fucking dirty mutt!” she cried out.

The wolf stopped lapping at the back of her neck and stood.  Instead of his cock sliding out from her, Red felt a hard dragging sensation deep within as she was hauled up under the wolf.  Oh Gods!  He had knotted her, she forgot.  He was stuck inside her for as long as it would take for the knot to go down.  Belatedly, Red realised that the ropes that lashed her to the wolf had swung down now as he stood, and held her tied against his abdomen, facing the ground, with his cock still speared into her battered pussy.  Someone had left her tied to a horny fucking wolf, and now she was knotted to him with no way of getting down!!!

***

Lucar felt the woman’s pussy clamp down around his knot as he stood.  He stretched a wolfish stretch of satisfaction, and felt his cock spear into her just a little further as he did so, causing her to yelp.  When he had first been transformed he had been desperate one night, and fucked a passing female wolf.  Unlike a normal wolf, his knot was persistent, and it was over 24 hours before it went down.

He trotted into the forest, with the woman strapped to him, filled with his wolf cock.  As he moved, she bounced up and down on it and moaned.  He knew his knot would never go down with this constant stimulation, and he was pleased.  He wanted her tied to him permanently, only able to eat and drink that which he allowed her, and constantly being stuffed full of his cock and soaked with his cum.  Maybe one day his spell would gain in power and she could bear him pups.  The thought delighted him, and he turned and disappeared with Red into the shadows of the forest.

 

 


	3. The Submission of Cinderella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Some violence at the start but it finished with a happy ending (sort of?) *shrugs*

Ash had made another mistake.  Throughout the large stately home, fires crackled in most of the hearths, and the chill autumn air was kept at bay by thick drapes which she had closed across all the windows.  Despite the location of the kitchen at the back of the building, tempting aromas of freshly baked bread and spiced apples greeted anyone coming into the grand entrance hall, and she had even been out that morning and filled her basket with fresh cut dahlias from the gardens, which were now arranged artfully in vases in each room.  The scene was perfect, but was marred by one glaring error, one catastrophically foolhardy blunder.  The pristine cream carpets of the main sitting room were blemished by a series of black footprints leading away from the hearth and finishing where Ash now stood, heart thumping.

They would hurt her for this.  She swallowed dryly, her mind racing for ways out of this situation.  They were outside the main doors now, she heard the wheels of the carriage crunch to a halt on the gravel drive, and the curt voice of Madame snapping out orders to the valets.  Ash ran through to the snug and dragged out the large colourful rug her dearly departed Father had brought back from Persia.  Hastily, she laid it over the footprints, and smoothed down the edges.  It wasn’t quite square with the room and looked a little odd with the cool pastel décor, but it did hide her mistake for now.

Just in time, she thought with relief, as her Stepmother and two Stepsisters strode into the room, a gaggle of harassed looking maids trailing behind them.  Her Stepmother stopped a few steps into the room and regarded Ash with disdain.

” What,” she said with quiet menace, “is this?”

“I… I am unsure what you ask, Madame.”  Ash stammered out, knowing full well that her Stepmother had instantly noticed the new addition to the room.

“Kneel.”  Madame commanded.  Ash scrambled to the corner of the room where she knelt facing the wall, head bowed.  With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she heard her Stepmother command one of the maidservants to lift the “vile rug” out of the room and replace it in the snug.  Her heart stopped then as all the maids gasped suddenly, and the room when deathly silent.

“Everyone leave.”  Her stepmother instructed with ominous calm.  The maids fled the room with a palpable sense of relief.  “Girls you may stay.”  Ash closed her eyes, against tears.  It was always worse when her Stepsisters helped.

Two sets of footsteps approached her on either side, and suddenly Ash was hauled violently to her feet by two sets of hands, fingernails filed to claw like points and painted blood red.

“You’ve done it now, _Aschenputtel_.”  The oldest step sister hissed in her ear, using the cruel nickname they had made for her as children, after finding her digging around in the ashes of the great hearth when her Stepmother had thrown in the locket her father had given to her before he died.

Ash had another name once, a real name, but Aschenputtel was all she could remember now, and so it became her name.  When she ventured out to the village to restock the kitchen, the village boys often looked at her leeringly, rubbing their crotches and making rude gestures with their tongues and fingers.  Colloquially, a woman who digs in the ash or dirt was a euphemism for a woman driven to prostitution by desperation, and the males of the villages called her the filthiest name for this, “Cinderella”.

A harsh slap across the face jarred Ash out of her thoughts, and she looked up to meet the cold brown eyes of her Stepmother.  This in itself was a mistake.  Madame’s eyes flashed a split second before she hit Ash, close fisted this time, square in the jaw. 

Ash cried out and spat out blood. 

“Keep your eyes down you filthy little slut.”  The youngest Stepsister seethed, reaching down and pinching Ash hard on her breast.

“Calm down my daughter,” Madame said.  “The little _Cinderella_ will make it up to us, won’t you?”

Ash nodded quickly, ensuring her eyes stayed fixed on her Stepmother’s feet.

“Take off your clothes, then get on your hands and knees, Madame commanded.

Ash did as she requested quickly, wanting to get this over with and minimise her punishment.

Her stepmother handed each of her Stepsisters a large wooden paddle, each one studded with smooth rounded nubs of metals which glistened and twinkled in the firelight.  Ash held back a sob.  The paddles were usually reserved for her worst infractions, and she wondered if it had been that brief rebellious moment of eye-contact that had earned her this penalty.

Her Stepmother rang a bell to summon a maid, who returned moments later with a large pail of steaming soapy water and a hand-held brush.

“Clean it up.”  She instructed, almost reassuringly.

Ash scrabbled forward and started scrubbing at the stains in the carpet, which thankfully did start to lift.  It was only a few seconds before - THHWACK.

Ash screamed and collapse on her belly, her back already bleeding and bruised from the first hit by her Stepsister. 

“Get up, Whore.”  The oldest sister spat, dragging Ash back to her hands and knees by her hair.

Ash continued to scrub desperately at the carpet, knowing that until all the stains were removed, her Stepsisters would continue to beat her.  The task was made more difficult as her blood began to drip from her body, running down around from her back and dripping from her breasts which swayed pendulum like with the motion of her body as she scrubbed and scrubbed.

“Girls, please,” Her Stepmother spoke up from the chaise lounge, “She is bleeding on the carpet.”

Her Stepsisters paused in acknowledgement, and reined in their blows, moving from her back to her arse and pussy as they continued to strike her.  Ash’s skin was on fire, no longer able to discern the individual blows from the generalised burn.  After some time, she had finished cleaning the floor and they stopped, tired.

“Get out of my sight.” Madame flicked her hand dismissively, and Ash rose on shaking limbs and fled the room.  She ran through the laundry room and straight out into the rear gardens, tears flying from the corners of her eyes as she ran, and blood running in rivulets down the back of her legs.

 

***

Otto stood still as stone, transfixed at the large bay window of the formal sitting room.  He’d walked up the long gravel drive to try and enlist some aid with repairing a broken carriage wheel back on the main road.  When he had knocked on the main door to the large house, he had been greeted by a small sweating butler, who informed him tremulously that His Lady wasn’t receiving guests currently and he should return on a better day, before closing the door in his face brusquely.  Irritated, he’d heard voices from an open window, and followed the sound hoping to catch the attention of the master of the house.

Looking in through the large window revealed an outrageous scene.  An older woman reclined on luxurious furniture, whilst two younger women beat another woman bloody with studded wooden paddles.  The victim was nude and scrubbing furiously at the floor.  Her body was naturally curvaceous but still slender in the right places, the type of woman that likely would have been quite buxom with better food in her belly and a life of indulgence rather than hard labour.  She did not fight back, did not recoil from the blows, and Otto got the impression this was almost part of the routine for her.  As she turned, he caught sight of the petite woman’s face and drew in a sharp breath.  Her long hair was a rich brown that put him in mind of the warm chocolate drink he sometimes purchased when he was feeling particularly lavish.   Her lips were full and crimson red with her own blood, and her eyes were the radiant silver of moonbeams on a clear night.  She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on.

He watched until she had finished her task.  She waited meekly to be dismissed, having taken her beating with poise and grace, before fleeing the room.  He quickly turned from the window now the other women’s attention was not held by their victim and darted back to the front of the house.  He was sure his master would be very interested in what he had just seen and would want to see the silver eyed woman for himself; Otto could fix the broken carriage himself, although it would take longer.  Otto adjusted himself conspicuously, hoping that his master would chose to claim her as was his right.  With only a quick glance back at the house, he jogged up the driveway to give his news to Prince Heinrich Charmant.

***

Ash sat naked below the willow tree and sobbed quietly to herself.  The tree stood at the very furthest part of the rear garden, at the edge of a gently babbling stream which meandered its way through the estate.  Her mother had loved it here, her father had once told her, and it had been where, after her death when Ash was a babe, he had scattered her ashes.  Now it was Ash’s safe haven, and a place to hide from her life even if only for a few short moments.

A twig snapped behind her and she jumped to her feet, suppressing a groan of pain as the dried blood on her back pulled and stretched her wounds.  A man stepped out from behind the tree and regarded her musingly.  She flushed from the roots of her hair down to her toes as he raked his gaze down from her face to her breasts, and then the soft mound of hair between her legs.  She tried to cover her chest with one arm whilst cupping her sex with the other hand to shield herself from his penetrating gaze. 

He scowled at her then, and a trill of fear went through her.  Without thought, her body did what it had been trained to do over the years when scared, and she found herself sinking to her knees before him.  Several moments passed, and he did not move.  Ash chanced a glance up at him and a shiver went down her spine. 

A small secret smile played across his lips.  He was very tall and well-muscled, with tawny brown hair and a close-cut beard.  His jawline was sharp, and every angle of his body radiated power and dominance.  He wore tightfitting black riding trousers, and a black silk shirt which was open at the neck to reveal a sculpted chest.  Strapped to his belt was a dark riding crop, and a long silvery sword in a black leather scabbard. 

“Little dove.”  He murmured so quietly she almost didn’t hear him.  “Who has punished you so and not tended to you after the lesson was over?”

Ash stayed silent.  Speaking about the cruelties of her Stepmother and sisters had only earned her more trouble in the past.

Suddenly his boots were directly under her gaze.  His hand snapped down to grip her chin hard and her pulled her face up to look into his as he crouched before her.

“I said,” he spoke with a dark look, “Who has done this?”

Ash’s mouth was dry as kindling, but she managed to stammer out, “My Stepmother and sisters.  I…I deserved it.”

He stood and this time his face was lit by a devastating and dark smile.  “I don’t doubt you deserved it little dove.”  His gaze was fixed on her bleeding lips.  “But,” his eyes flicked to her back, “some people do not properly care for their toys.”

With that he stood and turned, leaving her trembling in the grass below the tree, blood pounding in her ears at the note of black promise in his voice as he had said that last sentence.

***

The next day Ash found herself stood alone in a dark windowless chamber, heart racing and mind clamouring as to how she had gotten herself into this situation.  This morning an extravagantly dressed thin man had appeared at the house with a Royal summons, which even her Stepmother had reluctantly given in to.  He had sequestered Ash in one of the west wing bedrooms and proceeded to preen at her hair and makeup.  He wouldn’t tell her his name when she asked, simply snapping his fingers in her face.

“Stay still darling so I can fix your pretty little face,” he said with a flourish, “all you need to know is that today I’m your Fairy Godmother, darling girl.”

Hours later she found herself riding an open topped carriage up the main road through the Kingdom, wearing what was simultaneously the most expensive looking and most ridiculous dress she had even seen.  The material was an iridescent black which reflected the light back in shades of turquoise and cobalt.  It clung to her like a second skin, with long sleeves and skirt, but dipping to her navel at the front and stopping just above the curve of her buttocks at the back.  The skirt itself was slit on either side, and Ash found herself having to take tiny steps to avoid exposing herself even further. 

The open topped carriage ride had been an ordeal.  The people had lined the streets of all the villages she had passed through.  The village women hurled abuse at her, whereas the men stared openly at her chest with hungry expressions on their faces.  As she approached the castle walls through the main city, the folk became bolder.  Prostitutes loudly speculated about how many people she had serviced, and the men crowded the carriage, slowing its progress.  Many exposed themselves to her or shouted filthy invitations at her.  Ash even thought she had seen one man stood in the doorway of his crude hovel, vigorously pumping his hand up and down his shaft as his eyes seemed to strip away her gown.  Ash did not cry, as used as she was to daily humiliation.  At least she was not in pain and was getting further and further away from her Stepmother and sisters which each passing minute.

In the castle she had been escorted directly by well dressed servants to this chamber, and here she had waited in the gloom since.  After around an hour, a crack of light appeared on the far side of the room, before a door she had not noticed was pushed open.  Ash gasped.  Silhouetted in the door was the man who had came to her at the willow yesterday.  He was dressed in richer fabrics today but seemed to prefer black when choosing his clothing.  What had taken her aback, however, was not the richness of his outfitting, but the platinum circlet that rested on his brow.  Even Ash knew the King wore a full crown, so this must be his son Prince Heinrich.

He stalked towards her, his movements predatory.  Ash dropped to her knees in fright, and he smiled at her wickedly. 

“We meet again, little dove.” He ran a cool finger down her jawline before resting his hand above her left breast.

“You are frightened.”  His head was cocked to the side, reminding Ash of a wolf watching some interesting prey it was about to devour.  “Stand.”

Ash got to her feet before him, and he circled around her, appraising her from her shining hair which was knotted at the nape of her neck, to the swell of her cleavage and the curve of her buttocks.  He traced a hand down her back and she shivered, heat pooling in the floor of her abdomen in a way she had never felt before.  He continued to trace the lacerations and bruises of her back contemplatively for a minute or so, then moved in front of her to pin her with his glare.

“Understand this, little Dove:  You are mine now.  Bought and paid for, until the day you leave this earth.  Do as I command immediately and without question, and you will be rewarded.  Disobey me and face punishment.”  Prince Heinrich moved closer in front of her and studied her lips with interest.  Ash bit her lip with nerves and caught an answering flare of heat in his eyes.

“You will eat when and what I say you eat.  You will sleep when I say you can sleep.”  His finger absently stroked up and down her lower lip.  She closed her eyes, delightful shivers running down her body.  “You will service who I say you should service, and for how long.”

Ash’s eyes snapped open at that, hoping it didn’t mean what she thought it did.  So far, her new master had not beaten her like Madame, but equally her Stepmother had never hired her out to the staff or villagers to use as a sexual plaything. 

The Prince continued to rub her lower lip, occasionally sliding his finger past the soft entrance to brush against her closed teeth.  After a time, he shook his head gently and stepped back.

“Enough.” He said almost to himself.  Addressing her, his manner became predatory again.  “You seem to have some basic training, which pleases me.  Nevertheless, your last Mistress seems to have neglected her duties, and this must be rectified.  You are like a wild mare that has not been fully trained to hand, and now you must be broken before your new master.”

Ash couldn’t help it, something in the ominous seduction of his voice constricted her chest, and she took a step back involuntarily.  The Prince backhanded her hard across the cheek.  She fell to the ground on her hands and knees, staring at the floor as tears began to leak from her eyes.

She heard a zip, and the rustling of clothing, and then the Prince’s booted feet appeared in front of her.  “Never.”  He said calmly, “ever back away from me, Little Dove.”  He knelt down before her and pushed his breeches down, revealed his thick purple headed member, the end glistening with moisture.  “Open your mouth little bird and look at me.”

Ash obeyed without question, opening her mouth wide and meeting his eyes.  He rubbed the tip of his cock all around her mouth, circling it, before pushing it inside.  Ash’s tongue met the end and she swallowed reflexively.  The Prince let out a little breath then pushed in further.  He settled there for a short moment, and then without warning began to pull out and shove back in again at a cruel pace.  Ash gagged as his engorged cock slammed into the back of her throat.  Her mouth filled with saliva which poured from her lips around his shaft to pool on the floor between them.  He kept pounding her throat for several minutes before, with a ragged breath, he pulled out and stood up.

Ash stayed perfectly still, gulping air as he knelt down behind her this time.  She felt his hands on the backs of her thighs, pushing up her dress.  She felt so exposed to him, so open, and the fear was almost exhilarating. 

“I will be the first man here,” he said quietly, “to break you in.  This I must do quickly.”

With that, he thrust his jutting cock into Ash.  She screamed out and this new intrusion into her body.  The Prince was less than a third of the way inside her when he stopped, his cock meeting an internal barrier he had not expected.  “Gods!” he gritted out, before letting out a short victorious laugh, “You will truly be mine Little Dove.”

His hands gripped her hips and pulled her back as he rammed his own pelvis forward.  Something tore inside Ash and she cried out, feeling slick hot blood slide out of her pussy and down her thighs.  The Prince did not take care of her virgin soreness, but instead rutted against her painfully, stretching and filling her pussy as he smashed into her again and again.

Abruptly, he pulled out of her with a wet plop.  Ash felt sore and bruised, but also cruelly empty.  She did not like this new feeling, this desire for the painful stretch of her pussy and vicious hammering it felt like her internal organs were getting.

“Little Dove,” he sounded pained, “We are nearly finished with the breaking.”  He stroked her back soothingly.  “I have one more area of your lush body to baptise, and then we will move on to the next stage of your training.”

Something nudged then at the opening to her tight puckered arsehole, and before Ash could even register her terror, his cock had plunged deep inside her rectum, and the brutal pace had resumed.  His balls slapped heavily against her bloodied pussy, and his fingers gripped her like a steel vice.  Ash cried now, because this was painful.  Her internal muscles tried to clench, to force him out, but he battered past them without conceding.  On and on the brutal thrusting into her arse went, until the Prince stiffened even more inside her and then snarled.  Ash felt a molten heat flood her rectum, and she realised with horror that he had ejaculated into her sore and bloodied arsehole.

He lifted her then, to lay on a soft pallet bed in the centre of the chamber.  Ash was boneless in his arms, exhausted and feeling bereft.  She found herself craving his contact, craving the sensation of being stuffed to breaking point, but was also wracked with the shame at her own depravity.

A velvet blindfold was tied tightly about her head, and suddenly she was plunged into absolute darkness.  She felt first one ear, then the other, filled with some sort of thick paste which blocked out all sound except her own breathing and heartbeat.  Finally, her wrists and ankles were secured to each corner of the bed, leaving her restrained in a spread-eagled position.  Ash lay there naked, her own fluids and blood mingling with the Prince’s seed pooling on the bed below her.  She grew cold and began to shiver.

Many moments passed before she felt the first touch.  It was a rough grab of her breast.  Her nipple was twisted back and forth whilst a tongue laved at her other breast.  With no other senses available to her, Ash revelled in the sensations.  Pain and pleasure combined to form a fiery heat which burned her from the inside out.  A weight pressed down on her, and then her pussy was again stuffed full of unyielding hard cock.  It pistoned in and out of her and after several minutes, giving up on proprietary, Ash found herself pumping her hips back up to meet each wild thrust.  With one final deep stab, Ash felt hot molten cum fill up her grasping cunt, and she moaned at the sensation. 

It seemed that the Prince wasn’t done with her however.  The weight lifted only for a moment before it was back.  Her breasts were being sucked, her nipples bitten.  Her pussy was again stuffed full of cock which hammered into her relentlessly.  She felt a sensation grow within her, like a hot tide, ready to breach her defences.  The pace quickened, and she felt her inner walls growing tighter and tighter around the intrusion, until.

“Arghh!”  Ash came explosively, her sweet thighs shaking around the Prince fucking her.  He wasn’t done however, and soon after the softening cock pulled out of her it was back, harder even then before, ramming her so hard that it pushed her up the bed.  Ash arched her back, the sensations were becoming too much, she was too sensitive.  She didn’t know how the Prince could keep going like this, she was exhausted, weak as a new-born babe.  She opened her mouth to protest and found it suddenly and viciously filled with another pumping cock, her head squeezed on either side by thick hairy thighs, her forehead hot and moist with the weight of a pair of heavy balls.

***

Heinrich watched his men fucking his Little Dove with a dark smirk.  His butler, Otto, was stuffing her pussy full of his surprisingly girthy dick, whilst the cook bent her head backwards towards him and skull fucked her like he was a teenage boy.  Other men, some servants, most soldiers, crowded round her now, pulling and slapping and her tits, snaking fingers into her arsehole, or just standing over her jerking off.  He watched her body jerk and hands clench as rope after rope of thick cum rained down on her body from the soldiers, only to be rubbed into her skin by other men. 

His butler came inside her, and was immediately pulled back and replaced by Darius, his Master of Arms.  Shortly after the cook shuddered into her mouth and pulled out.  His Little Dove spat out a fountain of cum but was soon gagging on cock again as another man stepping in to take the Cook’s place.  The next time cum gushed into her throat, she swallowed it, exhausted and thirsty.

Heinrich stroked himself distractedly.  There were still well over 50 men waiting to get their turn with his new toy, their reward for good service.  His Little Bird would be occupied for hours yet and would end the day permanently hungry for the touch of men.

He stood, leaving the men to their rutting and retired to his chamber.  Tomorrow was her debut, and he already looked to it eagerly.  He had another dress waiting for her, this one the deep red of her lost virginity.  Tomorrow he would collar her with the thick metal collar his blacksmith had forged at his request the night before.  It locked with a small key which he even now wore on a chain around his neck.  He toyed with himself, imagining leading her into the feast at the end of a short leash, making her crawl behind him on her hands and knees.  She would sit under the table of his foreign dignitaries and nobles, and once she had dealt with his needs, she would wrap those sweet lips around their shafts (or stick her rosy little tongue into their pussies as the case was with two of them) and service them under the table as they dined.  If she was a good little pet he would reward her by letting her cum, and if she excelled herself, well.  He had a rather spectacular gift on its way to the Castle right now.

Speak of the Devil.  Heinrich grinned as he heard a rap on his door.  A solder stood before him looking ashen.

“Have you got what I asked for?”  Heinrich asked calmly

“Yes, Your Highness.”  The solider bowed and beat a hasty retreat.

Heinrich hefted the package in his arms to settled the weight, before ripping away the covering paper.  A huge glass dome rested in his arms.  It was heavy, so he set it down on his table with a wicked laugh.  Oh, how his Little Bird would scream when she saw it!  She would come to be grateful, he knew.  He protected his own.

He turned and disappeared behind a screen to strip and get into the hot bath his maids had prepared for him.  Chuckling to himself he hummed a jovial tune, watching as the steam from his bath slowly condensed on the surface of the glass dome, gradually hiding the unseeing eyes of his Little Dove’s abusers’ severed heads from sight.


	4. The Seduction of Snow White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve got to cite some major inspo for ideas with this one. Firstly, Laura Thalassa’s “The Bargainer” series gave me the idea for the deal at the beginning and some of the way Herne’s magic works. Secondly, the statue scene (won’t say more without giving it away) is based on some jaw dropping and panty-wetting writing by Kitty Thomas in her book, “Persephone”, which I just can't seem to get out of my head.
> 
> WARNING(S): (1)This chapter starts with difficult / complicated childbirth and is a little bloody (not too much really considering the other debauched stuff I write *whistles*). As it’s not mentioned in the main tags and I guess it could be triggering for some, thought I’d just forewarn you. Feel free to skip past the first part, no more childbirth after the first set of asterisks. (2) The female character is a baby at the beginning, 17 in the middle, but has just turned 18 before anything sexual happens, so I haven't tagged it as underage. Sorry if anyone feels otherwise.

He felt her call like a gentle tug behind his sternum and then he was there, in a dark room full of air heavy with the smell of woodsmoke and the stench of blood.  His ears were hit with a cacophony of sound; rain lashing the window like a thousand tiny fists trying to batter their way into the room, wind howling like an injured animal, and men shouting angrily from the other side of a door.  A door which was heaving and jumping on its hinges as something heavy crashed into it from the other side with an inevitable rhythm.

“Please...”  The voice was pained, a whimper.

He turned and saw the woman lying on a bed, a deep red spreading out over the sheets from under her lower half like a wine stain.  She was heavily pregnant and in labour, a sob wrenched from her throat as her belly heaved, trying in vain to expel the babe.  He took a breath and felt the fading energy of the child.  It was a girl.

“You want to make a deal.”  It was not a question.

“Yes…Ahh! Yes!”  She gasped as a fresh gush of blood gurgled from between her legs.  “My daughter...” she coughed, “…not my husband’s!  He knows!”

He looked up at the heaving door.  “I daresay the whole village knows.”

“You can save her!”  The woman cried out.  “Save my daughter from him!”

He smiled and began to open his palms.

“Wait!” she gasped, eyeing him from under her sweat soaked fringe of hair. “That is not the full deal I request.”

He frowned, word was obviously beginning to spread about his meticulous adherence to the terms of a deal, and how often the results weren’t exactly what people bargained for.

“My deal is this:” she gritted out.  “You will save my daughter’s life today, and from this day forth you will shield her from harm and be her protector from all others.  You will not seek to taint my innocent child in any way, or harm her physically.  You will allow her to live out her days in good health and in happiness.”  She sucked in a gulp of air and lay back on the pillows, exhausted by her speech.

He hid his pleasure behind a business-like façade; fatigued as she was, she had left him plenty to work with.  He sat next to her on the bed, sponging her brow with a damp cloth, eyes dark.

“The price for this magic is high, and the cost is this.  You daughter will be saved, and I will have to give of some of my own lifeforce to do it.”  The woman began to sob her gratitude, but he cut her off with a finger to the lips.  “That will not be enough, however.  I will need more life to save her.  Already her human soul is slipping from its earthly vessel.”

The woman keened in anguish.  “Please! Anything!  Just save her!”

He stood then, looking down at the feeble human woman.  “I will require your life for this woman.”  She nodded, and he inhaled the scent of her blood which still poured out of her like water from a cracked chalice.  “Even that will not be enough.”  He frowned.  “I will also take the life of your daughter’s father.”

The woman looked him in the eyes for a single heartbeat only, then took his extended hand.  “Done.”

 

***

 

Herne followed the tug of his magic to the Royal Castle, pleasantly surprised at this turn of events.  The infant in his arms mewled and rooted wetly towards his chest.  He held her up to his face bemused, “I don’t think you’ll find what you are looking for there, little human.”

He materialised in the bedchamber of the King and Queen silently.  The last of his magic siphoned back into him, pulling with it the last drops he needed to fulfil his side of the deal.  He looked around the room.  An ornate fourposter bed, large enough for four or five grown men to sleep comfortably, took centre stage.  Two forms lay still under its sumptuous coverings.  One was the young queen, who frowned in her sleep and murmured angrily.  The other form was the King, who was most unmistakably freshly dead.

Herne looked down at the baby and grinned wickedly, “Well aren’t you just full of surprises?”

He strode over to the small cot next to the bed and looked down at the new baby princess sleeping contentedly.  He placed his own bundle down next to her, then scooped the princess up.

“Sorry little Princess, but that spot was needed by another.”  With a click of his fingers, the Princess was gone.  She would grow up in the faery kingdom, a changeling, serving faery masters until her dying days.

He tucked his little ward in to the cot, eyes glittering with mischief.  Later, back in his forest realm, he congratulated himself on another good deal.  The poor dying woman thought she was being shrewd, but her fear addled brain had failed to spot the gaping loopholes that Herne’s mind had immediately seized on.  She bade him to _protect her from all others_ and to _not seek to taint my innocent child_.  Herne smiled a predatory smile.  No, there was definitely nothing there about protecting her from himself, and he couldn’t wait until the day she was no longer an innocent child.

 

***

 

The Queen paced in her private study irritably.  Outside, she could see the child, Margarete, playing with her pet mutt, her melodic laughter jarring the Queen’s ears.  She had always known this brat was not her real daughter but had almost been forced to abdicate her throne by advisors who thought her crazed when, all those years ago, she had tried to beg for help finding her real daughter.

So she had raised this cuckoo egg, all the while covertly emptying the treasury to scour the Kingdom for her own flesh and blood.  Nearly 18 years later, having chased nearly twice as many false leads, she had almost given up hope.  That is, until last week, when a travelling bard had told her of the mirror.

Now it stood before her, covered in fabric, and she was too nervous to use it.  She laughed cruelly at her own cowardice.  It was time to find her daughter.

She tore the material to reveal an ordinary looking floor length mirror.  He reflection stared back at her, an eyebrow raised.  She cleared her throat, feeling a little foolish.

“Show me my daughter.”  She commanded.

Half expecting nothing to happen, she drew in a sharp breath when the mirror’s surface rippled like water.  Margarete’s face immediately appeared before her, ebony hair tangled, snow white skin flushed at the cheeks and blood red lips lifted in a smile as she charged about with her pet dog.  The Queen snarled, moving to re-cover the mirror when the image stuttered, like a candle flame in wind, then faded.  In its place, the form of another young woman appeared.  She was small and birdlike, with short tightly curled golden hair and large periwinkle blue eyes.  She sat at a spinning wheel working, and the Queen’s throat constricted as she saw the large collar and chain that secured her to a point on the stone wall behind her.

“No.” She breathed, tears prickling at her eyes.  “Show me where she is!”  She demanded of the mirror.  In response, the image merely faded to black.  The Queen screeched in rage, “Find my daughter, damn it!”  The mirror remained stubbornly opaque, and she beat it with her fists until her hands were swollen and bloody.

The Queen sank to the floor, weeping.  “Can’t somebody help me find my daughter?”

She didn’t notice the surface of the mirror churning, or see the image that appeared, but she did still hear its voice, whispering like a sigh.  “Herne.”

 

***

 

Herne found himself before the Queen of humans for the second time ever, and smirked.  She looked quite taken aback by his sudden appearance, which was senseless really soon as it had been her need for a deal which had drawn him here.

“Are you Herne the Hunter?”  She asked him imperiously.

“I am.”  He replied, reclining arrogantly in the chair behind him

“I want to make a deal with you.  I want you to find my daughter, my real daughter, and send her to me here at the Castle.  In exchange you can have that thing out there,” she gestured out of the window, “to do with as you will.”

Herne’s nostrils flared as her followed the direction of her pointing finger.  The black-haired Margarete relaxed under a rosebush, reading a heavy book, some sort of mongrel dog resting his head on her lap asleep.  His magic sang to him that she would be an adult woman by human law tomorrow, and recently had even been sneaking out to kiss one of the royal guardsmen in the dead of night - which seemed to be enough of a loss of innocence to satisfy his depraved powers.

She was ripe for the plucking, but it would be difficult to keep her at his side without harming her, when taking her to his fae realm would damage her mortal body and break his promise to her dead mother.  Now this human before him, with parental rights, was offering her to him on a plate.  How could he refuse?  A new deal did, after all, override to some degree an old one made with a dead woman.  He looked at Margarete again, imagined seeing more of that snow white skin.  He was instantly and painfully hard as stone.

Herne stood, face solemn, and held out his hand.  The Queen gripped it like a drowning woman.

“It is done.”

 

***

 

Margarete got to her feet, stretching her lithe form as the sun began to sink behind the horizon, casting the castle grounds into glorious shades of pink and orange.  Her mother was in a black mood today, worse than normal, and Margarete had spent the entire day outside with Bertie her dog, avoiding her Mother’s ire.

Now she was hungry and needed to get something from the kitchens before bed.  She wanted to get to her room early tonight because Isaac, one of the castle guards and the first man to ever awaken any romantic interest in her, was planning to visit her bed chamber tonight for the first time ever.  Her heart raced at the thought, and she smoothed her sweating palms over the skirt of her dress.

She felt the air compress behind her a split second before a heavy pair of arms wrapped around her narrow waist and hauled her off her feet.  She felt the hard body of a man at her back and smelled a powerful aroma of rain and growing things, along with a heady animal musk that made her feel inexplicably flushed.  Her arms were pinned to her sides, her body crushed against the bare chest of the man behind her.

“Isaac?”  She asked, confused.  Her quiet and brooding guard had never crept up on her like this before.

A deep masculine laugh rumbled behind her, freezing her like a terrified rabbit.  “Guess again, my Snow White.”

 

***

 

Margarete opened her eyes to agony.  Her skin felt flayed open and she couldn’t move her arms or legs.  She tried to sit up, but flopped back to the ground, coughing blood.

“Eat this.”  An apple was thrust into her face from above.

She didn’t feel like eating.  She hurt.

“Eat it.”  There was command in the voice now.  “Bringing you to my realm has broken you.  This will repair the damage and repair any future injury to your body here.”

She opened her mouth weakly, and a slice of the apple was forced inside.  She chewed and swallowed, feeling better already.  The process was repeated until the apple was finished, and Margarete could sit up, feeling better than she had ever felt.  Her skin glowed a soft light, illuminating the face of the man squatting in front of her.

“And my Snow White is back with me.”  He smiled impishly.

He was tall and solidly built, with ropey muscles that spoke of functionality rather than display.  He was not as broad in the shoulder as Isaac, but his physical presence was still somehow so much…more.  The darkly tanned skin of his bare torso rippled under her gaze, and she looked up fearfully to meet his forest green eyes.

“Who are you?”  She asked, bolder than she felt.

“I am Herne, and you are my Snow White.”  She frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but he rested a finger on her lips and continued.  “I never liked the name Margarete, too dowdy.  So I have named you for your best feature.”  He eyed her flesh with blatant desire.

She looked down and gasped, suddenly aware of her own nakedness.  Herne watched as she tried to cover her body, looking almost bored.  He stood abruptly and opened his palms to the sky.  Margarete’s only warning was a low rumbling from the ground before four thick vines burst from the soil to twine around her ankles and wrists.  More Vines came from beneath her to cradle her on her back, on a nest of leaves, whilst her arms and legs were secured aloft by the unyielding vines.

“Humans and their modesty.”  Herne tutted.  He ran a finger down her collarbone, onto her left breast, and flicked her nipple.  She gasped, heat pooling at her loins at the unexpected pain.

“Oh dear,” he grinned rakishly, “did I forget to mention the other side-effects of our apples?”

She winced as something internal clenched down in want.

“They’re quite spectacular really,” he went on.  “The last mortal I gave a single bite to couldn’t stop ramming her fingers into her own pussy for days.”  He gave a short laugh.  “Perhaps a whole apple was over-generous,” he paused regarding her with hooded eyes.  “Then again, only the best for my newest acquisition.”

He reached down then and ran a finger around the entrance to her trembling channel.  Bringing his fingers together, he slicked her slippery moisture over his index finger and thumb, enraptured, before putting both into his mouth and sucking with closed eyes. 

“Well it seems that my Snow White is ready.” He murmured, seemingly to himself.

He gestured, and from all around them through the trees came animals of various species, shapes and sizes, along with other beings that she didn’t immediately recognise.  She whimpered in fear when she saw that most were male, and all of the male creatures, from the large black bear to the grey furred rabbit, had jutting phalluses beneath them, glistening already with moisture.

“Now now,” came the deep masculine voice of Herne.  “Human forms please, we don’t want to ruin her straight away now do we?”

 

She had closed her eyes at the word ruin, a sob on her lips, but opened them again as she heard the chorus of soft popping noises surrounding her.  She was encircled by a group of men, each with strangely beast like features.  All were nude, and all were fully erect, their cocks twitching eagerly towards her.   She gave another low frightened sound as they rushed towards her immobile form.  Leathery palms ran the length of her body, stroking , pinching and slapping.  Two leaf coloured older women, tree sprites, licked and nibbled at her ear lobes whilst grinding their cold wet slits down against her bound hands.

“I must warn you,” Herne cautioned sagely, “That the appetites of the Fae are really quite different to those of humans.  We are very long lived and over time have seen and done it all…now we all nourish our own special interests and hobbies.  Fortunately you greedily ate a whole apple, so not only will you be begging for us to teach you all we know, your poor body will heal itself from any damage sustained in the process.”

She whimpered again like a bitch in heat, much to her own shame.  When a group of the males shoved something hard and blunt ended against her lips, her mouth traitorously opened wide, allowing them to slide it in all the way to the back of her throat.  To Margarete, it looked like some sort of funnel, the narrow spout end shaped into a crude hollow phallus, with the wide open end projecting into the air like an open flower.

The smaller men, who were around 5 feet and had bunny ears or mouse tails, were already upon her.  Two each had a foot held in their hands and were sucking and licking on her toes devilishly, causing her back to arch unexpectedly from the odd stimulation.  Another straddled her abdomen, pressing her breasts together and thrusting his surprising thickness between them.

The other larger creatures/men were laughing and joking around her, and it seemed to her that bets were being made.  Cups of some strong smelling floral liquor were passed about, and she sensed that they were rapidly growing drunk.  She was snapped out of her reverie as the small man fucking her tits groaned.  Her neck was suddenly wet and warm, the fluid pooling at the hollow of her throat before trickling around in rivulets to meet again in her hair.  He was instantly replaced by another, to the cheers of the onlookers.

The larger men now stood around her head at varying distances, and began to rub their swollen cocks vigorously, all the time watching her.  When the first one came, she felt his cum hit her cheek like a hot wet slap to the face.  He cried out his disappointment, and one of the tree sprites rubbed him consolingly on the back.  Margarete felt a tear trickle down her cheek to join the cum as she tried to hide how much she was enjoying her humiliation.

Another man came with a triumphant shout, but she didn’t feel it land.  Relieved it must have missed her, she nearly gagged when she felt the salty seed slipping out of the end of the hollow phallus in her throat.  She swallowed it surreptitiously, her pussy clenching in need.

Coins were exchanged, and the man who had successfully shot his load into the funnel first was clapped on the back.  Soon others were having success, and she found herself constantly guzzling on a steady flow of semen.  Still others were not having as much luck, having drank too much of the liquor, and as much as she swallowed down spurt after spurt of cum, her face, hair and breasts were getting equally saturated with it.

Margarete moaned as she felt a cool wetness between her legs, balm to the raging fire that consumed her sex.  Looking down, she saw a water sprite giggling evilly between her legs.  The little sprite seemed fairly androgynous, with no obvious genitalia, and Margarete was perversely disappointed.  She cried out an arched her back as a torrent of high pressure water shot out of the sprite to thrum over her clitoris and into her pussy.  The force of it and the vibrations it sent running through her were painfully intense and she screamed, gargling on the cum in her throat.  Some of the water was shooting up her urethra and forcing its way into her bladder, needle like pain and pleasure stabbing into her.  Without warning, Margarete came, her pussy spasming rhythmically as her throat made wet satisfied noises with the cum that still poured in through the funnel.  The watersprite withdrew its water back into itself.  She dimly registered that its fluid body was now pink with her blood, before a jet of watery urine arched out of her and she came again.

The funnel was lifted from her mouth and cast aside.  Many strong arms unravelled the vines from her arms and legs and picked her up, almost gently.  She was carried a few short paces away, flaccid in the wake of her orgasm, until they reached a large stone statue which seemed to rise naturally from the forest floor.

The statue depicted a huge 9 foot creature, with overall human shape except for the tall antlers on his head, the eagle wings spreading out in a 15 foot wingspan either side of him, and the impression of fur and scales all over his body.  His face seemed familiar, but she couldn’t see how so because in place of a normal man’s mouth and nose this statue seemed to have more of a … muzzle. 

She was lifted then into an upright position and moved towards the statue.  Only then did she notice the sculptors had not been prudish.  Its giant stone cock pointed up from its crotch like a monolith.  It was over 1 foot long and 4 inches wide at the head.  She gulped in fear even as her pussy begged to swallow the impossible shaft.

The creatures lifted her up onto the statue’s member, and then began slowly pulling her down by the legs or pushing down on her shoulders.  She screamed out as the stone head breached her entrance, and ruthlessly stretched, filled, and when needed, tore her pussy.  When they reached her hymen their progress completely stopped, and she was left with her pussy undulating on the tip of the stone shaft.  Their pressure increased, until the statue punched past the ring-shaped barrier inside her with a cheer from the crowd.  Blood ran down her legs and she moaned in pain, even as her greedy little cunt fluttered and milked the huge inert shaft that had her impaled.

They let go of her then, but she itched for more.  Without any prompting, she found herself rhythmically pumping her hips on to the statue, unable to completely raise herself off its cock.  She barely noticed the smaller fleshy dick press into her arsehole, until the bear man was fucking her there punishingly, reaching round to pinch and roll her nipples.  She was cumming constantly, each orgasm rolling onto the next, her heart pounding, blood dripping down the statue onto its legs and feet.

She fucked the statue for hours, hips gyrating whilst her cum soaked breasts bounced and slapped together wetly.  Each male creature had his own blissful turn fucking her now squelching and stretched anus, and their cum poured our of her arsehole to mingle with her blood on the foot of the statue.

 

***

Herne watched his human fucking his statue until he felt the blood sacrifice had built enough power.  He felt the transformation take him like a lover and when he opened his eyes, it was from a significantly higher vantage point.  His antlers felt glorious and he spread his wings in masculine conquest.  Walking to the orgy happening before him, he pushed the last man beast away and lifted his panting shuddering little human of the stone shaft off the statue that was his mirror image.

She mewled in protest, the flow of blood from her pussy instantly stopping as the apple’s powers healed her now she was no longer full of cock.  He pushed her to the floor on her hands and knees, and laughed delightedly as she spread herself for him, her pussy still as tight and virginal as it had been several hours ago before she’d fucked a forest full of horny fae.

He kneeled behind her, and with a smooth motion he forced his cock deep into her pussy, tearing through her internal membrane which had been restored, to his great enjoyment, by the apple.  He pulled out with a slurp, then thrust back in again.  With a snap he was through her reformed hymen again, and she cried out, her arsehole twitching and convulsing.  Herne grinned, having not expected her hymen to reform every time he pulled out.  Slowly, deliciously, he pulled out and crammed himself in again and again, repeatedly taking her virginity with his brutal monster sized cock.  Her human form was badly damaged with each thrust, but she was healed again and again by the apple.

After an hour of sheathing himself inside his new fuck toy, he felt his balls tighten up to his body, and picked up his pace hammering into her.  Her eyes were closed like a cat in heat, and she made tiny moaning sounds as he fucked her like he wanted to hurt her.  With a great shout, his wings curved around her, imprisoning her, as he continued to pulverise her flesh.  His teeth sank into the back of her neck, injecting her with his venom that would seal and bond her to him eternally.  After it was all released, he finally shot his load inside her.  The sheer volume of it forced its way through her cervix and quickly filled her womb with over a litre of his viscous scorching cum.  As he pulled out, her cervix closed, and vagina magically healed. 

She lay moaning on the floor, covered in cum beautiful with it.  Her belly was rounded as if she were pregnant, although he knew the apple would prevent that happening.  His followers crowded around them in awe, many were starting to get new erections.

Herne addressed them bawdily.  “Who wants their turn in their animal form?”

They all fought forwards like a mob, and Herne grinned wickedly.

“What do you think of that my little human?”

She lay on the ground, already rubbing her slit with her fingers.

“Yes please my lord!” she gasped wantonly.

“But of course,” Herne replied amicably, “my only price is you tell me your name.”

She nodded, wetting her lips. 

“My name is Snow White”.


	5. The Punishment of the Princess (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have decided to split this chapter into 2 parts, mostly because I'm allowing my horrible little mind to come up with a really good finale.

Herne tore his eyes away from his new human pet, who was currently wriggling about in ecstasy as some of his female creatures rubbed her naked form from head to toe with the slick sweet-smelling oil of the Fae apple blossoms.  His magic was pulling at him, reminding him that he had a deal as yet unfulfilled.  He stood and cracked his neck irritably.  Whilst the stupid Queen had not specified _when_ he should return her real daughter to her, the adamant tug of his magic would vex him until he finally returned the girl.  He stretched lazily.  Why not return her now, when he was so pleased with his gains?  A sly grin touched at his lips when he remembered how vague the Queen’s request had been; perhaps he could have a little fun and still sate his demanding magic.  With a muttered instruction for his first in command, the bear guard, to get Snow White wet and ready for his return, he left that place with a rush of cold air.

He found himself deep in darkest depths of the faery realm, in a windowless stone chamber which smelled of toil, damp straw, and metal.  The delicate form of the human princess lay sleeping on a bed of straw.  A thick metal collar was fastened around her neck, and her pert little buttocks were marred with fresh lash marks.  Herne stopped for a moment to admire her naked form.  She was petite and slender, with small but well-formed breasts and a toned body that spoke of youth and fitness.  Her closed eyes seemed unusually large for her small avian features, and her lashes were long and dark, despite the golden curls that nested atop her head and at the juncture of her thighs.

He looked around the room curiously and spotted the large spinning wheel at the centre.  Understanding came to him then; he would be pissing off a very rich faery by returning her, but a deal was a deal.  It didn’t interest him, being a Lord of the flora and fauna of this place, but in the hands of an innocent human woman, Fae straw could be spun to gold.  Unlike the common human variety, this gold had the potential to be woven into garments which could be imbued with certain magical properties, and thus was highly prized by most Fae.

He shrugged and bent to lift the sleeping woman.  He was powerful enough to handle any repercussions from others of his species.  Well most of them anyway.   Time to get this over with and carry on with his plans for Snow White uninterrupted.

 

***

 

Odelina awoke with a start to the sound of hissing voices, like a nest of angry hornets.  She opened her eyes to find herself lying on a cold marble floor, surrounded by lavishly clothed humans with raised eyebrows and cold appraising eyes.    She couldn’t sense the presence of her owner and wondered she had been sold for some reason.  Reassured that she could sense no Fae watching, she felt more confident amongst these humans.  They were, after all, fellow slaves.  She stood and addressed them with a clear voice.

“Who is the master here?”

Several of the women recoiled at her proud nakedness.  Several more of the men leaned in, leering at her.  Odelina didn’t understand the interest in her body.  Much more unusual were slaves in clothes, what right had they to judge her?  She tilted up her chin defiantly.

“I asked you, which Fae owns you?”

Some of the humans scoffed at this, others whispered angrily.  A seed of unease grew in Odelina’s gut, but she forced it down, head held proud.  The crowd of humans seemed to be growing in size, and Odelina felt like a drop of honey spilled on the floor, surrounded by a colony of glistening insects.  For the first time in her life, she felt anger.  Who were these slaves that they thought to belittle her?  She was the prized slave of one of the most powerful Fae, producing more gold per hour than many produced in a day.  Her backside might currently be marked with the evidence of her recent punishment, but normally her owner left her alone to bring him riches, only penalising her when she became lazy.

A hush descended on the crowd.  Odelina heard clipped footsteps approaching from behind her.  She pivoted, and the gaggle of people parted to reveal another human.  She was petite and slender, as was Odelina, with the same honey blonde hair and wide lavender blue eyes, although unlike hers this woman’s eyes were artfully framed with fine lines.  This woman’s mouth was set in a thin line and her eyes were just as cold as the rest of the humans

“It seems I have been duped once more.”  The woman’s voice was quiet.  Odelina didn’t register what had been said, so fascinated was she by the woman’s elegantly curved golden crown and deep purple velvet gown.   She imagined herself attired similarly and smiled inwardly; it would be nice to be owned by a Fae that let her dress up as a queen.

“He dares bring you back here, naked as a whore, after promising the return of my beautiful daughter?”  The woman’s voice remained quiet and steady, but Odelina now noticed that her whole frame was trembling with barely suppressed rage.

She was confused, having never met this woman in her life.  She drew herself up, her eyes level with the regally dressed woman, and took a step towards her.  It was an aggressive move that disguised her actual nervousness, but Odelina knew that in a group of slaves there was always a dominant human.  She had been that human up until this point, by right of her owner’s favour, and she wasn’t about to let that change.

“Do not speak to me in this way,” Odelina commanded the older woman.  “I want to know who my new owner is.”

The other woman’s eyebrows shot up.  “Owner?”  She sneered at Odelina, then without warning, stepped up to her and backhanded her across the face.  Odelina staggered back, shocked at the strength behind the blow from such a small woman.

“It seems The Hunter has returned you knowing your place at least,”  the Queen spat, “and now everyone can see you for the little slut you are, Margarete.” 

Odelina opened her mouth to protest the mistake in her name, but was slapped again, hard enough to draw blood.  The Queen stood with a straight back and raised her voice to address the room.

“Can you all see now that this vixen is not our true Princess, but a whore and a changeling sent to bring ill fortune to this realm?  See her wicked flesh bared for all to gaze upon.  The collar upon her neck marks her as a servant to the evil Faery people.  She has clearly been commanded to cause madness and mayhem in this peaceful land and I will not have it.  Guards, seize her.  Cast her out of my Castle ensure she is put on a ship heading to the Eastern Continent.”

Odelina felt rough hands graze her underarms, as two large human males, clad in metal plates and chains, dragged her backwards out of the room.  She kicked and thrashed, trying to scratch and bite like a wild cat.  Her throat was raw with screams for her master to come and intervene, to punish the slaves who thought to elevate themselves to the level of the Owners.   One of the men stopped and  scooped her over his shoulder like a bag of grain, whilst the other tied her ankles together, and her wrists behind her back.  A filthy rag was stuffed in her mouth to muffle her shouting.  Tied up like a hog, she was carried out of the Castle to a chorus of jeers from the gathered humans.

 

 

***

 

Outside the Castle grounds, she was flung into a covered wooden cart lashed to a tired looking pony and was joined by the two guards in the back.  The cart immediately set into swaying motion, bumping over the cobbled streets.  Odelina seethed quietly.  She had accepted her owner’s rare punishment when she had deserved it, but usually he treated her tenderly, as one might a frightened child.  She never saw his physical form of course, for her own safety, but he communicated with her well enough through the shades that served him.  To have humans, _slaves,_ treat her as beneath them, when clearly she was their better, made her blood boil.

“Got a bit of an attitude problem, this’un.”  One of the guards remarked to the other, grinning.

“Tell me about it,” the other guard muttered, shooting Odelina a black look, “nearly scratched me fuckin’ eye out.”

“She was fuckin’ Isaac you know.”  The first guard said cheerfully.  “Before she went off to sell us out to her faery masters.  I bet she was good too, look at her.”

“She’s no virgin princess that’s for sure.”  The second guard rubbed his jaw speculatively, looking at Odelina with dark interest.

“Listen mate, how about it?”  The first guard suddenly whispered, leaning forwards.  “You can go first, bein’ as you outrank me ‘n’all.  I’ll keep watch, then tag in when you’ve had your fill.”

The second guard lifted the flap of the cart and barked something to the driver, then ducked back inside, a malevolent smile widening on his features. 

“It’s a deal, go sit at the back facing out so you can keep watch.  I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

As the other guard turned away from them, Odelina renewed her panicked screeches, and whipped her body about madly on the floor in an attempt to get free.  This couldn’t be happening.  She had seen other slaves used cruelly by the Fae, men and women who were not pure as she was.  She knew what the guard wanted from her.  It was the one thing she could never give up, for to do so she was sure would be to incite her owner to end her life.  The guard picked her up and slung her, belly down, over a crate.  She was winded, but still bucked and fought him.  If he tainted her, she would lose her ability to spin gold.

The guard swore and called to his fellow, “She’s flapping about like a fuckin’ salmon.  Come and hold her for me.”  Moments later, strong arms held her down fast to the crate.  She screamed and screamed into the gag.  Her throat felt torn and bloody.  She was going to lose everything, and to mere slaves!  She was revolted and desperate.  More than ever in her life she was completely and utterly powerless.

The guard behind her dropped his trousers with a clinking sound.  She heard him spitting, and then cold wet fingers were being thrust between her outer lips, rubbing his spittle into her labia and the entrance to her core.  Tears slipped silently out of her eyes.  She was exhausted, she couldn’t fight anymore.  The guard spat again, and she shivered in revulsion.  The cold wet fingers were pushed inside her.  She gasped at the intrusion, inner walls clamping down on the invading fingers painfully.  The guard swore, this time with lust.

“Gods, she’s tight as a fuckin’ vice!”

She felt the cool head of his dick bumping her inner thigh as he positioned himself.  After a few blind prods, he lined it up with her entrance, which clenched up in horror. 

“This is gonna fuckin’ hurt you faery whore.”  He whispered in her ear.

Then he shoved himself into her.  Odelina’s owner had broken her arm once, when she was 12, to punish her for trying to hide gold for her own use.  The broken bone had hurt much more, but the pain of the guard tearing through her virgin barrier was just as deep, and the snap of it reverberated through her body just as chillingly.

Tears poured down her face as she sobbed into her gag.  Behind her the guard was grunting and sweating like a pig.  He slowly pulled his cock out of her, the friction of it dragging on her dry channel making her hairs stand on end.  He then crammed it back in with force, his balls slapping forward onto the backs of her thighs.  It felt like a hot knife, and certainly her body reacted like it had been one.  Blood seeped out around the base of his shaft and coated his balls and thighs. 

He continued like this slowly for some time, whispering in her ear throughout.  She was a dirty little whore who liked to be fucked.  She was a filthy slut that needed to be filled with cock.  He was going to ruin her.  He was going to fill her so full of cum that she’d blow up like a fucking pufferfish.  Did she know how many men were going to pound her brains out after this?  The whole crew of the ship would want their turn after he told them about this.  With each cruel sentence he slowly slid his cock back inside her, drawing out the pressure, torturing her.  With one hand, he grabbed her short hair and pulled her head back, arching her back painfully and allowing him deeper access to her centre.

He licked the side of her neck like an animal.  His breath was hot in her ear, and she was sweating under the weight of him on her back.  Or was he sweating onto her?  He pulled out quickly with a slurp, her blood and his precum now providing better lubrication, the slowly and cruelly forced his way back inside her, using her hair to pull her backwards onto his shaft so the head of his cock rammed into the closed entrance to her womb.  Odelina no longer cried, having grown resigned to her fate.  The pain was less now.  Something about the mesmerising drag and push of his cock inside her, the way his balls grazed the tiny nub at the front end of her slit, was building an odd tight warmness in her core.  She couldn’t name it but felt at once excited and repulsed by it.

Before she could realise what new horror the sensation was building to however, the guard’s body stiffened behind her.  His cock seemed to swell inside her, and he stabbed in to the hilt groaning.  Odelina felt nauseated as she felt a pulsing wet heat deep inside herself as he coated her inner walls with his thick cum.  He stayed inside her until the pulsing and twitching of his cock had stopped, then pulled out wetly.  Blood and cum ran down Odelina’s thighs, cooling on the way down.

Breathlessly, the guard pulled his clothing back on, then stood to slap his comrade on the back.

“Your turn.”

 

***

 

Herne flicked his tongue, snake-like, over Snow White’s nipple as she moaned beneath him.  His cock was standing to attention, waiting to sheath itself back in her tight wet pussy.  He grabbed it and positioned it at her entrance.

CRACK!

Hern froze, midway inside Snow White.  She was oblivious to the dark oppressive power now filling the air, and tried to wriggle further on to his shaft.  Goosebumps rippled along Herne’s flesh as he pushed himself of her, to a moan of disappointment.  Someone had just arrived, and they were stood right behind him.  Someone much more powerful than even him.

He turned slowly.  Seeing the presence before him, it was all he could do not to fall back in fear.

“Herne the Hunter.”  The being said, experimenting with its new mouth.  “You will not be surprised, I think, to discover I returned to my home this morning and found one of my prize possessions missing.”

He spoke with a calm voice, and almost sounded amused.  Herne knew better and was cursing himself for not checking who had owned the Princess.

“My Lord Rumpelstiltskin,” Herne said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice, “I was forced to return the girl to her mother, the Queen.  A bad bargain.  However, I’m sure if you went to the mortal realm later today, you will find her cast out, waiting to be brought back to your cells.”

Rumpelstiltskin solidified more in front of Herne, taking on the rough outline of a man, but composed of writhing black oily ropes.  His head cocked to one side, expressionless.

“And why is that, Hunter?”

Herne swallowed, “I cast a glamour over her.”  He explained hastily.  “To humans, she looks like the Changeling girl I have here before me.  They will hate her and cast her out of the castle.”

The skin of Rumpelstiltskin broiled, a mass of heaving tentacles.  His featureless face raised, and seemed to almost scent the air, before his attention returned to Herne.

“She has been befouled.”  He spoke coldly.

Herne felt a fresh stab of fear to his chest, cold sweat running down his spine.  The power radiating from the being in front of him compressed him from all sides.  He wheezed harshly, blood beginning to flow from his nose and mouth.  With a sickening crunch, two of his ribs gave way.  The invisible force around him continued to close in, crushing him.  Blood roared in his ears.  The edges of his vision blurred.  He felt a soulless death quickly approaching him.

Suddenly he was released.  Air whistled back into his lungs as he collapsed to the ground, coughing and choking.

Rumpelstiltskin tutted, entertained.  “Worry not Hunter, I will spare you today.  It just so happens that I have acquired another human capable of spinning my gold.” 

Behind Herne, to his great surprise and annoyance, Snow White seemed to have been pulled from her lust-filled stupor by Rumpelstiltskin’s all consuming power.

“Are you going to let her go then?”  She asked breathily.  “Your human slave.  Will she be freed?”

Rumpelstiltskin regarded her dispassionately. 

“She will not be freed.”  He declared.  “Whilst she is no longer pure enough to spin gold, I can think of much more…entertaining things an incubus like myself could do to occupy her time.”

With that, the black form of Rumpelstiltskin deepened into a shadow, then faded from sight.

Herne stood trembling.  For the first time in his long life, he felt sorry for a human.

 

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. The Punishment of the Princess (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay getting this up on here. I've decided to split it one last time, but I promise part 3 will be the final installment!

They had been becalmed for 5 days.  When the wind had first weakened, the crew of the _Lillyanna_ had not been troubled.  Many had sat out on the deck gambling at cards, others fished, dropping lines that jingled with scraps of highly polished scrap metal – broken spoons, worn out buckles and the like.  During the day the sun warmed the wooden deck so that lying on it felt like lying in the arms of a woman, and the men were contented to give in to their sloth and bask in the heat like lizards.  During the night the still air and gentle lapping of the water against the hull of the vessel made all on board feel peaceable and reflective. The sense of comradery between the officers and the rest of the crew was palpable, and that first night they stayed up until the early hours singing sea shanties and telling stories of their women at home.

They woke the following day to grey.  Clouds had leached the blue from the sky overnight, and the water reflected the absence of colour bleakly, flat and smooth as a mirror.  The Captain reluctantly announced a short period of rationing, as all indications were that the weather was going to be here for the foreseeable.  Moods soured and muttered curses echoed about the great stranded ship.  That night the air was oppressive, and the men lay sweat soaked in their berths, feeling impotent against their ever cruel oceanic mistress.  Most were hungry, and almost all were inexperienced.  Sleep eluded them, and by morning on the third day there were whispers of a curse.

On the fourth day, they killed the captain.  He had been making a speech, trying to calm the growing unrest, when the crowd had closed around him like a mouth and a dagger bit down into his neck unseen from behind.  The first mate and most of the officers fled after that, rowing away in the jollyboat to a discordant chorus of jeers and insults, taking their chances with the empty horizon.  The men congratulated themselves for seizing control of the situation.  The ringleader, Huck, swore he had felt the sweet breath of a sea breeze the moment the captain had drawn his last.  The atmosphere was ripe with charged anticipation as men talked of their plans once they reached port, ignorant to the sails backing and quivering above them like a dying moth.

By the next day, the sails did not even ripple about.  They hung like funeral drapes, immobile under the great expanse of overcast sky.  Rations were stolen, fights broke out, and Huck began to feel the weight of the Captaincy he had snatched for himself.  Huck was one of the few experienced sailors left, so the men turned to him with their frustrations.  When would the wind return?  What could they do to get home?  Huck drew them in close about him, skilfully giving off the air of a man sharing confidence and generously giving up his secrets.

“It is the woman.”  Huck projected with authority.  Many of the older crew nodded, casting dark looks in the direction of the trapdoor leading to the brig.

“Every Seaman worth his salt knows this,” Huck continued assertively, “that a man must not let his wife call farewell from the shore, or surely find himself drowned before he sets foot on land again. We do not whistle into the wind lest we call up a storm, and,” he paused for emphasis, “we must not sail with a woman aboard, or risk the jealousy and wrath of the Sea.”

Huck had been forced to raise his voice at the end, to overcome the clamour of the crew.  He raised his arms and waited, bringing them down again once the din had died down.

“Throwing her overboard will not please the sea, who is scorned and vengeful.”   The men listened, rapt, as he went on, eyes glinting with dark purpose.  “She must be punished and brought down low, only then will our true loyalties be clear.  Only with her disgrace will the winds return.”

 

***

 

Rumpelstiltskin coiled about the stationary vessel unseen, pleased that the elements of this world still submitted to his power.  He stretched himself out to form a pulsing network of sentience, worming his way around the skeleton of the ship to give its lifeless body arteries and veins of his malign influence.  Each cord of his being searched for a compatible mind, a man with a crack in his goodness just large enough for Rumpelstiltskin to get inside.  Fortunately most of these men had split their souls wide open long ago, and he could slip into them with the merest flexion of his will.  There were some, of course, that he could not get inside; their minds were smooth and glassy, and he slid off them like oil.  They were easy enough to dispatch, their kind souls already abrasive to the malevolent creatures under his sway.

The searching had been unexpectedly draining. The humans had moved her further than he had anticipated; the passage of time in this realm always a little unpredictable.  Normally to cover this kind of distance Rumpelstiltskin would have stopped at several human settlements, feeding from appropriate women and men to fuel his journey.  This time haste prevented him from gaining sustenance, causing his reserves to dip low enough that he wasn’t confident he could make it back to Faery with the little human intact.  Unfortunately for the human woman, she was the only being within any practicable distance he could feed from, and as he didn’t think she would sleep often enough or long enough for him to get what he needed, he was going to have to do this the old fashioned way.  Not that there wasn’t some sport to be had in that, he mused.

Feeding more of himself into the minds in his grasp, he began to uncoil his power.  He poured it down the connections to the crew of the ship and they soaked it all up hungrily.  Not until every last man was brimming with Rumpelstiltskin’s oily control, did he plant the seed.  The man, Huck, had a mind already fertile with sadistic imaginings and a thirst for power.  It took no time at all for the whole crew to be overgrown with a consuming need to act out their basest desires on the human woman.  He would be waiting, an unnoticed parasite, to lap up her fear and pain, and their lust, until, like a blood-bloated tick, he could sever their connection and return to Fae with his prize.

 

***

 

Odelina stretched out on her pallet, eyes fixed on the locked door in front of her.  She could hear footsteps approaching on the other side, and it felt as though with each footstep her heart lifted more and her stomach growled louder.  She had been surprisingly well cared for on the _Lillyanna_ ; the silver haired captain of the ship having immediately declared her the spitting image of his own sweet daughter.  She’d been given clothes and her own cabin, and whilst she was not allowed out of it, she was called on three times a day by one of the deckhands, who would empty her chamber pot and provide her with a meal.

All this had stopped the previous day, and she had been alone since.  To her shame, her chamberpot was nearly full, and she knew the smell in the small humid space was nearly overpowering.  The pitcher of water left for her was empty too, and her mouth felt thick-tongued and dry.  Her current situation was likely punishment for some slight the deckhand had perceived from her, and she sighed at the pettiness of humans who did not have a Fae owner to occupy their time. 

With the muted click and grind of a key in a lock, the door swung open.  The frame was filled with a man Odelina had not met before.  He regarded her speculatively, his hands empty of any provisions.  Odelina inhaled his stale scent, recognising another burnt peaty aroma that she could not assign to anyone or anything in particular, but that made her feel like she was in grave danger and coming home all in the same breath.   She remained seated on the bed as he watched her.  The moment stretched on, and her cheeks heated as she realised his breeches were tented with the evidence of his arousal. 

He took a step forward, and she shrank backward until the wall behind her halted her progress.  She flinched, expecting snatching hands and angry blows, but instead found him towering over her silently.  She looked up at his face, but was not reassured by the cruel look of conquest he wore.

“Come.”  He commanded simply, before turning to walk out of the cabin.

Odelina sat for half a second, puzzled, before reasoning that this man must be taking her to food and clean clothes.  She followed him silently down a short gloomy corridor, before ascending behind him up a creaking ladder.  Eyes screwed tightly against the light, she emerged onto the deck.  The fresh air almost had a taste to it, and her mouth watered, refreshed, as she took in great gulps of it.  As she adjusted to the brightness, she peered about.

The entire crew were gathered around her, looks of grim anticipation on their faces.  Odelina felt her heartbeat stutter, then resume at a faster pace. The gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach now had nothing to do with hunger.  She took a step back, and no one moved, so she took another.  She kept her eyes down the whole time, like a person trying to appease an angry dog that was advancing on them.

Suddenly, she was gripped from behind in a crushing grip around both biceps.  She yelped and tried to tug herself sharply free, but the pressure merely increased until she was whimpering in pain, almost leaning back into her captor to show her submission.   From amongst the gathered crew, a man stepped forward to stand in front of her, almost nose to nose.  His smile would have been friendly, if it wasn’t for his shark like eyes, which were so black it looked as if the pupils had devoured the irises and were still hungry for more.  His hair was long and a little matted in places, and his beard looked coarse and unkempt.  His skin was nut brown and leathery from the sun, and his bare chest was decorated with scars and tattoos.

He stared, his eyes burning into her own almost painfully.  He bent down to her neck and inhaled deeply, as a person might inhale the aroma of their favourite food.  She breathed in as well, the panicked snort of a frightened mare, and again got the oddly familiar scent of fires and marshes.  He shot her one last look full of dark promise, then turned away from her to address the other men.

“It seems our princess hasn’t been keeping herself very clean, boys!”  There was laughter at that.  “I think she needs washing down, don’t you?”  The men cheered.  Some chanted his name in adoration – _Huck! Huck! Huck!_

He turned to face Odelina, and something cold pressed against the hollow of her throat.  “You will do as I tell you to you little whore, or I will poke you so full of holes with this that the whole crew will be able to fuck you at the same time.”

Odelina felt tears push their way out of her eyes.  It had been days since she lost her virginity cruelly and unwillingly at the hands of the two guardsmen assigned to escort her to the ship.  She had only just been able to be seated without pain, and still bore the bruises and bite marks of their assault all over her body.  She was bitter at herself for allowing the feeling of safety to creep up on her.  She was enough of a fool it seemed, to let a few kind words of the captain lure her into a sense of security.  Now these other humans would use her too, and she would be so devalued as to only ever be taken by a cruel master if she ever tried to get back to Faery.

“Kneel down” Huck commanded.  With the memory of the knife to her jugular still fresh, Odelina sank immediately to her knees in front of him, head down.  He squatted in front of her, pulling the collar of her nightgown sharply upwards before ripping it straight down the middle with his blade.  Odelina kept her eyes down, studying the planks beneath her knees as her bare breasts cooled in the soft breeze, nipples puckering. 

“Get your head up, slut.” He barked, and Odelina immediately obeyed.  Already she felt numb to her situation.  The men were going to stick their filthy human pricks inside of her, thrust about and sweat and grunt, before leaving her alone with their cooling sticky emissions and her own humiliation.  There was nothing to be done but to wait for her disgrace to be over.

With her head raised to face the sky, and her eyes closed, Odelina was fooled when she felt the first splash of warm liquid hit her upturned face into thinking that the men were, in fact, washing her down.  Then she inhaled the tang of urine, and retched in horror.  Stream after stream of hot piss rained down on her from above, and soon she was dripping with it, her hair plastered to her skull, and straw coloured rivulets of the stuff running down her naked torso to saturate her underthings and pool on the floor beneath her.

Eventually the deluge stopped, and Odelina took in a shuddering breath through her mouth, to avoid burning her nostrils with the acrid stench of the combined urine of the whole crew.  The breath hissed out of her in a rush as she was hauled to her feet by a great meaty fist which dug into her hair.  The tearing pain in her scalp made her see black spots, and she screamed out for the first time.  Her arms were pulled sharply together, and she felt the bite of rope pulled tightly around her wrists.  Her arms were dragged above her head next, and secured to some part of the mast with the rest of the rope.  She was left dangling, shoulders screeching their protests, scrabbling on the tips of her toes for purchase on the deck of the boat to try and take away some of the weight going through the already strained joints.

“Now that the lady is nice and clean, gentlemen,” Huck called out with mock civility, “I think it is time we showed her a good time!”

Odelina was stripped of the last few shreds of her nightdress, and swayed at the end of the rope as she fought to stay on her feet.  She felt the harsh sandpaper drag of a calloused palm running down her neck, over her breasts and down the plain of her abdomen, and surpassed a shiver and the chill the hot palm brought to her skin.  Eyes screwed tightly shut, Odelina was perhaps even more aware as the hand dipped lower, sweeping aside the short curls of her sex to quest towards her entrance.  Two fingers speared inside her. Pain lanced threw her, and she tried to pull away but had no purchase on the floor below.  The fingers were just as quickly withdrawn, and then thrust without warning into her partly open mouth.  The tasted herself for the first time then, tart and spicy, before the finger were again reaching inside her unprepared chanel, thrusting in and out, dragging and pulling on her inner walls despite being moistened by her saliva. 

She opened her eyes, and was met with Huck’s coal black orbs staring coldly at her, his mouth curled up in a smirk and his cheeks hot with excitement.  He continued to fuck her with his fingers, his nails occasionally scraping her inside, until, perhaps in natural defence, her body began to lubricate itself and allow him entry into her deeper places.

Huck withdrew his slick fingers and sucked them, eyes closed, tasting her fluids as a wolf might lick blood from around its chops.  Somewhere along the line, he had managed to un buckle his breeches, which were pooled about his ankles.  His cock stood proud of him, thick and angry headed, twitchy to the tempo of his heart beat towards Odelina.  He stepped into her, pressing her hot back into the shockingly cold mast.  At once his mouth was on hers, his tongue raping her mouth, pushing her own aside to lathe his own alcoholic saliva around.

Odelina felt an almost gentle nudge of his cock against her pussy.  He lined himself up with the ease of a man who had lain with many women, and in one smooth languid stroke, pushed himself deep into her until their pelvises were crushed together.  Balls deep inside her, he maintained eye contact throughout, as he rolled his hips in small circles, rubbing the head of his engorged shaft slowly around and around her cervix.  His pelvis grinding against her tore sensations out of her clitoris that Odelina had never before felt.  She knew that more moisture gathered between her legs, but not why.  She felt as though something catastrophic had started to build, and she had no way of knowing how to stop it.   Hot tears of humiliation ran freely down her cheeks, and Huck broke away from his unwelcome kissing only to lick them up periodically.

She was unsure if it was her own rising tide of heat, or something Huck was doing, but his cock was getting bigger inside of her.  Filling her from the very first, it now stretched her almost painfully.  His whole body was tense now, as he stayed perfectly still of a few moments.  After apparently recovering, he withdrew his slick hard shaft slowly, leaving Odelina temporarily and breath-stoppingly empty, before pushing back in equally slowly, eyes fixed on her own.

“How does it feel, princess,”  he gritted out breathlessly, “to be fucked like a whore?  Does it feel good to put on a show for the men?  Do you like…” he pulled out wetly, then thrust back in with a slap, “ the feel of my cock inside you?”

Odelina whimpered, because she hated this.  She hated the assault on her body, the stripping of her power and the humiliation.  She hated the way her nipples hurt like they were expanding and needed to be pinched, hard.  She hated the way her internal muscles were meeting each of Huck’s thrusts and clamping down on his cock, milking it.  She hated the way her legs had climbed up at some point to be locked around Huck’s narrow hips as her pushed into her.  Most of all she hated the way she didn’t want him to stop.

Huck seemed to know all of this and smiled wickedly at her.  He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, making her gag, just as he jabbed his cock inside her hard and fast for the first time, bruising her cervix and knocking her buttocks back against the mast painfully.  His cock jumped inside her, and then Odelina came apart as a river of searing cum filled her deeply, crashing like a wave against the entrance of her womb before flowing back down and out to coat her thighs.  Huck stilled inside her, and Odelina hung on the rope bonelessly, his cock only slightly flaccid and still very much still held in the grip of her slick pussy.  He leaned his head into her neck, and she felt his hot breath in her ear.

“Better clean out your whore-hole before you get with pup, bitch.” 

Warm wet pressure filled her then, as a more powerful jet of fluid slammed into her cervix.  The way out was partly obstructed by Huck’s cock, so the fluid ballooned her pussy.  The heat and the stretch were too much, and Odelina fought back a moan as she came again, her spasming pussy ejecting spray after spray of Huck’s urine onto the floor below.

Huck pulled out then, and left her dripping like a rag pegged out to dry.  He stood surveying his mess, feeling oddly drained.

“Draw lots.”  He barked at the men, causing many to jump and drop their erect cocks.  “I want her stuffed full of cock for as long as possible.  Take turns, one at a time.  When you are all done we will throw her into the sea.”

 

***

 

Rumpelstiltskin’s oleaginous form rippled deliciously as he drew in the sensations Huck was experiencing.  The human woman was giving off powerful emotions, which were already nourishing his depleted essence.  He felt the moment her lust began to take over, and his power swelled in pleasure.

One by one the men took her against the mast.  The first after Huck was, rather luckily for him, the skinny 18 year old year old cabin boy, Smith, who was a virgin and didn’t quite know how to go about the act.  He managed to get his young member between her outer folds, but lost for an entry point, settled to slide it slickly up and down her slit, until she mewled with pressure at the friction on the taught bead at her apex.

The cook turned her and took her from behind.  He did not prepare her virgin arsehole for his cock, and she cried and screamed for the whole 2 minutes he pounded into her brutally, hands pressing her head into the mast to hold her in place.

Men held her head still for their comrades as they emptied themselves onto her face and chest.  Her pussy dripped with the cum of over 12 of the men by the time the sun sank below the horizon, and her nipples were darkened with bruising.  She wore 24 purple marks around her throat like a necklace, where the men had sucked on her skin hard, trying to draw something of her back into themselves whilst they left inside her their own gush of pleasure.

In the evening she drooped, barely conscious, from the mast.  Huck emerged from the Captain’s cabin looking hollow, and ordered for her to be cut down.  The men were weak and heavy limbed, but managed to lift her light-boned frame down and carry her to the rail.  Huck nodded, and they unceremoniously cast her over the side of the ship, to fall to the waiting sea below.

Rumpelstiltskin would have sighed, sated, had he a mouth.  Instead he slid from the minds of all the men, and hastily uncoiled himself from the ship.  He oozed out over the surface of the water like an oil slick, and when Odelina fell into the water it was, instead, his own murky depths she plunged into and was enveloped by.

The men on the ship were beginning to shake their head and look about them.  Some seemed puzzled, others cast about in horror, cognizant of the horrors they had inflicted over the last 12 hours.  Rumpelstiltskin left them to their guilt.  There were other Fae who could feast on that, but he preferred the baser emotions.  It was time to return home with his human.  It had been annoying when the Hunter had taken her, but actually he was rather pleased now with the turn events had taken.  He had a new human spinning his gold, but now, for the first time in centuries, he held a woman in his cloying embrace that was raised in faery and imbued with the magic of his realm, but still human and capable of producing the emotion needed to feed his kind. This woman that he had at first though ruined, suitable for nothing more than as a plaything, now had a much grander role to play in his schemes.  The human woman he now held would be the damnation of the rest of her kind.  She would bear his young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part, hands up, may be a few days in the making. I've got a lot on in the next few days which may prevent me writing much at all, but definitely by Wednesday evening I should have had sufficient free time to bring this to its climax (heh heh heh).


	7. The Punishment of the Princess (part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tentacles. Somnophilia. No plot.   
> I'M NOT SORRY!

_Odelina blinked groggily.  Objects appeared around her as if being revealed by a retreating mist.  Dark velvet pillows and silky coverlets.  Wooden bed posts.  A candle burning low on a bed stand.  A large pewter-framed mirror.  She sat up, hands digging into the sumptuous bedding which pooled about her waist like spilled ink.  The woman in the mirror gazed back at her, knuckles white where they gripped the midnight coloured sheets.  Long deep gold dresses fell in waves down her back, and her lilac blue eyes glistened with trapped moisture.  Her lips appeared swollen, freshly kissed, lying open as she panted slightly.  Around her neck was a large sapphire fixed in a gold choker.  Thin golden chains ran down from this in layers, studded with small blue and white gems, to meet lacy blue coverings which cupped her breasts and pushed them together.  The corset was missing, replaced instead by another intricate web of gold chains and jewels, dipping lower until it disappeared beneath the bedding._

_She had never seen anyone so exquisite looking as the woman in the mirror and found she could not tear her gaze away.  She knew she should be frightened, flinching as the phantom hands of memory pulled her hair or pinched her breasts, but in this womb-like chamber, this luxurious bed, she felt safe and surrounded by beauty.   She felt like she had slept for hours and stretched up cat-like.  A small gasp escaped her lips as she felt a slip of soft material slip tighter between her buttocks to press upwards into her crease as she stretched.  Pulling back the covers she revealed more blue lace, this time disappearing between her thighs and reappearing at the back, front and back seemingly joined by a simple thin strip of material that wasn’t even as wide as her little finger.  At the front, an uncomfortable coolness against her core made her reach down with a finger.  She encountered a soft wet warmth, and recoiled, small fissions of energy radiating out from her centre to tingle all over her skin.  The undergarments were split down the middle, bearing her sex to the outside air._

_Catching a glint of movement in front of her, she turned her eyes to the mirror, her body as tense as a deer scenting the air, and her heart jolting at a sudden rush of panic, like a wind storm finding its way in through an open door.  In the mirror her reflection was collapsed back on the bed, paralysed in sleep.  There were no fine jewels adorning her naked body, and her hair was chin length and tightly curled, just as hers had been last time she remembered.  Her reflection's feet were closest to her, and she could easily see the glistening rose petal centre of her sex between the slightly open thighs.  She flushed, finding her self staring at the spot that had caused her so much unwanted pain, and so much forced and disgusting pleasure._

_She wouldn’t have noticed the black and snake like appendage winding its way around her reflections waist, had it not been for the sudden clamping of her reflections thighs.  Its tapered end threaded up over the side of the bed and brushed the side of her reflection’s breast, before twining about her middle, once, twice, three times, each coil thicker than the last as the tentacle’s girth increased, until the last coil sat under her breasts, thick as a man’s thigh.  The woman in the mirror frowned in her sleep, appeared to be moaning or sighing._

_She had been frozen in fright, staring at the chilling sight in front of her.  Without warning, a heavy weight fastened around her own middle, and she shrieked, almost leaping from the bed in fright.  She was held from doing so by the muscled arm about her waist, which tightened as she struggled against it.  She fought like a wild thing, kicking and lashing out with her small fists._

_The warm bare chest pressing against her back rumbled with masculine laughter.  Hands clamped her arms to her sides before lifting her bodily and turning her to face the man kneeling on the bed behind her.  His chiselled body was unnaturally perfect.  His face, too, could have been carved from marble.  Wicked black eyes met her own from under coiling black hair.  She found herself fixed on the hair, unsure if it really was writhing about like a nest of snakes or if it was just a trick of the light._

_“I see the trauma of your time on the mortal world has not left your mind broken, human.”_

_She started, recognising the rich baritone immediately._

_“M-master?”_

_He smirked, looking her up and down possessively.  “It pleases me that you remember your place well, human.  Unfortunately, you are no longer… intact…and that place has changed.”_

_She started sobbing quietly then.  She knew this would happen ever since that first royal guard had forced himself on her.  Her owner had found her, but she could no longer spin gold for him.  She was worthless to him now.  Somewhat surprised she wasn’t dead, she resigned herself to the other fate that often befell spoiled slaves.  She was likely to be sold on one of the horrible meat markets, where Fae gathered from across their world to buy human flesh, dead and alive, for food or fun.  She shuddered at their idea of fun._

_Fingers gripped her chin, and she found herself looking into the eyes of the master she had never met face to face before.  He really was beautiful.  She knew that wasn’t the right word, but she couldn’t easily replace it with another that did him justice._

_“Now now, little human,” he spoke softly, “I am not so displeased as you might think.”  A wry smile tugged at his lips.  “The loss of my gold will grate I am sure, but I have decided to let you make it up to me.”_

_She looked into his eyes hopefully.  Did he mean her to remain in his service?  Something inside her jumped for joy at that.  Even if her master used her as nothing more as a toy to satisfy his debauched Fae sexual cravings, at least he was not terrifying-looking.  In fact, he was the most human in appearance of any Fae she had ever encountered.  Many were part beast, or monster.  Some were small as her own hand, others taller than the trees.  The worst of them were the gargantuan lizard like goblins, with scaled skin and thick barbed members that shredded their victims from the inside out as they fucked them to death.  She shuddered, at least he wasn’t a goblin.  Or an incubus.  She had never met an incubus before, but everyone knew they were the most powerful, oldest, and most evil of the Fae.  Everyone said they were made up of nightmares and had power over the elements and over dreams.  They could take any form they liked in the dreamscape, but in reality they were large inhuman beasts composed of thick oily tentacles and fed off base human emotion.  Lust.  Anger.  Hatred.  Fear.  She swallowed, mouth dry._

_“I think,” her master went on, startling her from her thoughts, “we will start with a little fun.  What do you say human?”_

_She nodded dazedly, and his black eyes darkened, the black expanding to fill the sockets._

_His mouth came down then on hers, hard and claiming.  Where their skin touched, heat flared through her body, lancing down to her sex which was tingling and quivering.  He smelled of peat fires, and his skin was hot and oddly dry, devoid of the almost unnoticeable slick of sebum that coated the skin of most humans.  In her ears her heart thrummed frantically as he slowly and languidly eased his tongue into her mouth and swiped it across her own.  His own breath was hot and smoky in her face, and she felt him hum to himself as he kissed her._

_His hands traced her shoulders, and down her arms.  She felt herself needing to feel him too, and reached to twine her own arms about his broad shoulders.  He palmed her breasts through their lacy coverings and she moaned into his mouth.  He nipples were taught and straining painfully through the gaps in the lace to meet his thumbs, which were rubbing small circles over them as she arched into him._

_His tongue was now thrusting in and out of her mouth in a devastatingly dominant imitation of sex.  He fucked her mouth with his tongue, and she clung to him helplessly, her body awash with sensation, her ears full of the sound of his hot breath.  His hands trailed scorching paths lower, over her abdomen, skimming her hips and coming to rest on her inner thighs.  Gently, but firmly, he pulled her thighs apart, and the material between her legs parted also, revealing her now soaking wet sex._

_One hand gripping her buttocks and holding her in place, the other making lazy strokes up her thigh, higher and higher like the tide coming up the beach, he continued to claim her mouth.  She didn’t know how he was doing this to her, but she was losing herself in him.  His touch was the first pleasure from a man she had not wanted to resist, and she felt a stab of shame at the loss of her morals.  She told herself this was different, he was her owner and master and it was her purpose to serve him like this if that was his will._

_She purred against his tongue as it fucked her mouth.  The hand between her thighs slid deftly between her folds and she moaned lasciviously.  He found her clitoris and rubbed it in circular motions, his fingers slick already with her fluids.  The circles were rapid but light as a feather, her clitoris emerging taught from the small hood of skin that normally covered it.  The sensations were like ice and fire at once, and radiated outwards from his powerful fingers to pulse into her core and shoot down her thighs, causing them to tremble uncontrollably.  Her pussy was achingly empty and clamping down rhythmically on this air as it tried desperately to fill itself.  It was hard to believe that the only experience she had ever had of the touch of a man had been rape and humiliation, she was enjoying this too much.  Part of her was quite conscious of that fact, warning her that this was no man, it was her master, a powerful Fae.  For the most part though, she just wanted to give in to the sensation._

_He broke the kiss, pushing her backwards onto the bed, head towards the mirror and facing away from it.  Instantly he was on top of her, pressing her down into the mattress with the hard weight of his body.  He grazed his teeth along her neck, his breath hot and wet there.  She was confused, both frightened and painfully aroused.  She wanted to pull her shoulder up to her chin to protect her neck from his teeth.  She wanted to bare her throat to his bites.  One of his hands ventured down to continue its lazy circles of her clit.  She was coming undone beneath him.  His mouth was on her left breast now, tongue flicking snake like across her erect nipple.  His teeth fastened on the fabric, just grazing her nipple, and he wrenched his head back - tearing the material from her and leaving a sharp line of pain across her back where it had dug in._

_He bent his head back to her breasts and suckled like a starving man.  His mouth was able to entirely envelop her small breasts, and as he sucked she felt them pulled to the back of his throat which pushed wetly back against her nipples.  Whichever breast he wasn’t currently suckling from was left bare and covered in cooling saliva, so that when he turned his attentions back to it she felt as though he was branding her._

_He left her breasts, and trailed bites and kisses down her taught abdomen.  Her hands were free to explore his hair, which left them feeling slick and soft.  She curled her fingers into it, and it seemed to coil around them, stroking her fingers and palms.  She cried out, back arching involuntarily, when the finger at her clit was replaced by a hot probing tongue.  She pressed herself into his face, gripping his hair with both hands as he hungrily lapped at her._

_She felt a finger at her entrance, and then swiftly deep inside.  He hooked it forwards, rubbing a spot on her front wall that made her pussy clamp down hard around his finger.  She felt like she was going to pull his finger off so tightly was she clenching on him.  There was a disturbing urge to pee, but the urine never came.  His tongue steadily lapping her slit, as his fingers stroked and caressed her deep inside, was enough to make her toes curl with pleasure into the bedding.  Her back was dripping with sweat, and all she could hear was her own gasping breaths, her pounding heart, and the wet slurping and slapping sounds his tongue was making as he devoured her._

_The finger deep inside her was joined by another, and they began to thrust deep inside.  This felt almost bruising, and her inner thigh muscles clamped hard around his as she tried to close her legs.  With a growl that vibrated into her pussy, he savagely withdrew his fingers and wrenched her legs apart painfully.  He bit her clit, and white-hot pain lanced through her as her pussy spasmed in a mini-orgasm.  His fingers were back then, three, then four.  They weren’t reaching all the way inside her, getting stuck at the knuckle, but still she felt stretched wide open.  She was on the edge of cuming.  She felt feverish and shivering with her need for release, but still it did not come._

_He stopped licking her then, and straightened slightly, catching her eyes.  He looked inhuman, and full of purpose.  Her pleasure paused momentarily, replaced by fear.  Her trepidation evaporated as he hissed and shoved against her entrance hard, putting his body weight behind it.  With a sick pop, his entire fist pushed deep inside her.  She cried out, screaming her pain and pleasure to the empty room.  She was beginning to smell her own hot arousal on the air, mixing with his acrid smoky scent._

_He punched his fist in and out of her.  The bumps and irregularities of his digits and joints pulling and catching on her inner walls, enhancing the sensation.  He would withdraw his fist slowly, until it was almost completely free of her, knuckles resting just inside her opening, then slam it back in with such force that the juice lubricating her pleasure would spray out around his wrist.  Every so often he opened his middle and index finger of his fist slightly and gripped her cervix between them.  He pinched and pulled it, his whole fist and wrist shoved deep within her.  Her battered pussy quivered and fluttered around his wrist.  Her heart hammered painfully in her chest.  The pleasure was agony.  She couldn’t find her release.  He was going to kill her like this._

_Suddenly, with a prolonged slurp he pulled his fist out of her.  She lay there boneless as he licked her juices from his wrist, eyes closed.  Dark shadows moved beneath his skin, but she was so frantic and dissatisfied that she didn’t care.  He looked down at her lying on the bed, both hands at her sex, one finger furiously rubbing her clit whilst the other hand tried to shove three fingers into her now gaping pussy._

_“Your pleasure is a sweet feast, human.”  Hearing this, she moaned, reminded of his mastery of her, and thrilled to be pleasing him._

_“Your fear on the boat was sweeter still,” he said quietly._

_She froze, ice spreading down her spine._

_“I think,” he mused, “it is time for me to feast on them both at the same time.”  He scooped her off the bed._

_Fear had begun to settle on her at his words, like a cold wet rag.  She lay complacent in his arms, submitting to the will of her master, but was still unable to suppress a terrified quaking.  He turned her to face the mirror and pushed her forward onto her hands and knees.  He knelt behind her, the black trousers he had been wearing dissolving into smoke.  She saw his cock then, inhumanly long and thick as his fist had been.  Glittering white fluid dripped freely from the end, and it seemed to pulse and twitch in the air.  She sighed, relieved.  If that was what she had to fear then she could relax and enjoy herself.  His fist had given her pleasure.  She was ready and enthusiastic to have his cock plunging in and out of her well-prepared channel._

_He laughed cruelly, digging his fingers into her hips._

_“No human.  Look at the mirror.  See what is really happening here.  See me.”_

_She looked up at her reflection and froze.  In the mirror her sleeping form was in the air, facing down towards the bed.  Thick ropey tentacles coiled around her body, writhing around her abdomen, between her breasts, around her arms and legs which were being held splayed, over her face and in her hair.  Her whole body was coated with a grey oily substance which dripped from the ends of her erect nipples.  Thrusting back and forth in her mouth was another thick tentacle, which bulged and pulsed every third lunge, followed swiftly by her sleeping reflection swallowing reflexively and moaning unconsciously.   Her pussy was impaled on a thick black appendage which was corkscrewing in and out of her punishingly fast, and she could see several smaller tentacles disappearing around the back to plunge in synchrony in and out of her arsehole._

_“N-no!” she whimpered, backing up.  Her thigh bumped against the head of his cock, and then his body was heavy on her back, his breath on the back of her neck._

_“But yes, little human.”  She could hear the wicked smile on his voice.  “Now you see me.  Now you FEEL me.”_

_Her scream when he thrust his thick girth deep inside her was drawn out and despairing.  He pumped in and out of her, his rhythm matching the tentacles raping her reflection.  Tears poured from her eyes as she squeezed her eyelids tightly shut._

_“No, you will see me human.”  Her owner commanded as he pushed in and out of her.  Her eyes were forced open by an irresistible force, and she was helpless, watching herself get raped by tentacles in every orifice._

_His hips pistoned in and out of her, thighs connecting with the back of hers making hard thumping noises.  He held her gaze in the mirror and smiled cruelly.  This time she could see the writhing black lines under his skin._

_“Who are you?”  She sobbed, as he relentlessly fucked her._

_“I am Rumpelstiltskin.” He whispered in her ear with his breath like smoke from a marsh fire, “and I am the last of my kind.”_

_Incubus.  A voice whispered in her head, and she wept silently, whilst his vicious cock continued to pummel her.  With each thrust she felt the stone hard head of if crush into her cervix, which already felt bruised and swollen after his earlier tugs and pinches.  Her small breasts undulated in rhythm with his thrusting.  In the mirror, the tentacle drilling into her reflection withdrew wetly, and her reflection proceeded to piss all over the floor, blood and fluids oozing from her battered pussy.  From outside of her field of view, a new tentacle appeared.  It was more a purple than the black of the other tentacles and dragged underneath it, about 3 feet from the tip, a pulsing and rippling sac.  It was as wide as two fists, and it pressed against her reflection’s abused entrance._

_“No!”  She moaned, as Rumpelstiltskin continued to fuck her mercilessly, his pace increasing and the force at which he slammed into her building._

_In her reflection, the thick tentacle slammed into her pussy and even in her sleep she screamed around the tentacle in her mouth.  The huge sac contracted, and suddenly a spherical swelling was passing the length of the tentacle which sat heavily in her reflections pussy.  As it reached her pussy, she again cried out in her sleep, until pressure forced its way inside her, tearing open her channel to accommodate the huge tidal wave passing down the tentacle.  Suddenly cum began to spray out of her reflections pussy at pressure around the tentacle stabbing into her._

_With a shout, Rumpelstiltskin pushed into her hard from behind, and with a sick warm wet pressure, began to fill her with his cum.  She couldn’t look away from her reflection.  More spheres were passing down the tentacle, and she could see her reflection’s abdomen growing more and more distended.  In her own conscious form, she was aware that the slick flood of cum was still gushing forth from Rumpelstiltskin, and her own sex and womb were beginning to feel heavy and full.  In the mirror, her reflection’s abdomen writhing with tiny bulges then indentations.  What was that!  She felt nauseated.  It wasn’t just cum it was pumping into her, there were tiny creatures going into her, or eggs!_

_As the last egg passed into her reflection, the tentacle in her mouth pulled out.  Her reflection immediately vomited over a litre of sticky grey fluid.  A new tentacle appeared in front of her, its end opened like a hand with webbing between all the fingers.  For the shortest of moments, it faced outwards, and she could see it was covered with tiny suckers and had a gaping mouth like orifice at its centre.  Then it turned and clamped on her reflection’s face._

_Rumpelstiltskin simultaneously clamped a hand over her face, and she felt, impossibly, the centre of his palm open.  Tiny slick appendages burst out, snaking into both of her nostrils and into her mouth.  Suckers clamped onto her temples.  Rhythmically, the hand suckled her face.  She couldn’t see.  She couldn’t breathe.  Her face felt hot, and her skin prickled like she had been stung.  She felt something being drawn out of her, and finally her pleasure returned, more horrifically overpowering than it had been before._

_Behind her Rumpelstiltskin’s cock still throbbed and pumped cum directly into her womb, which was now occupying most of her abdominal cavity.  He’s feeding on me, she realised, resigned to the fact.  As the thing on her face continued to thread its way inside her head and suck out her emotions, she finally, blissfully came.  Her pussy cramped hard around the cock sheathed deep inside, and she felt her inner walls almost drag Rumpelstiltskin in an extra inch._

_She would have screamed, but her throat was too full.  She still couldn’t breathe.  Black spots were appearing at the edges of her vision, but still her orgasm overpowered her.  It kept coming, unstoppable.  As she began to lose consciousness for the final time, eyes closing, Rumpelstiltskin's cock was still hard inside her._

_Her pussy was still spasming with her orgasm when her heart stopped beating._

_***_

Rumpelstiltskin stirred.  His human had just woken with a start.  He could feel her tiny heart hammering, the pulse fluttering around him as he was buried deep in her pussy.  It always happened like this, he sighed internally.  It seemed after millennia he still could loose control and kill them in the dreamscape.  Oh well, she was awake now, and he would be unlikely to lull her back to sleep.

Unlike in the dreamscape, the tentacle he had wrapped around her face like a blanket was serving an important purpose.  She would incubate his young for 48 hours.  In that time she needed to be kept on the precipice of orgasm constantly, so his young could feed on her lust and desire.  She would be depleted of magic and human sustenance, and so each of his tentacles drip fed these things directly into her body.  One ran, snake like, into her windpipe so she could suck oxygen in through its hot hollow length, another ran into her stomach, dripping in human nutrients and a potent aphrodisiac.  Finally one sat just in the back of her nose, filling her mind with soothing magic that would allow her, and therefore his young, to survive.

Already he could feel the hormones surging into her system, as his young anchored themselves within their egg sacs to the wall of her womb.  Her breasts expanded within minutes, each one growing to the size of a large watermelon, turgid with milk.  Her huge abdomen writhed with his excited young.  They were hungry.  Her human milk might not feed them, but her pleasure would.  He had always wanted to try human milk; perhaps he would sell some - it was considered quite a delicacy at the meat markets.

He cupped her abdomen in two thick tentacles, holding his young.  Two of his other limbs he sent forth to clamp onto her stretched nipples.  He sucked hard through them, drawing sweet hot milk from her breasts and into his body.  She writhed and moaned.  He could feel her pleasure soaking into his flesh where they touched, and he thought of his young, experiencing all of that from the inside, with some jealousy.

He started to move his main tentacle in and out of her then, and he felt her body gripping him tightly every time he tried to pull out.  He snaked a thin limb into her arsehole, and, carried away, kept pushing greedily until he realised he had threaded through her whole bowel and it was now coiling within her small intestine somewhere.  

She whimpered into him, and her pleasure flooded his system.  It was heady, like a drug.  He had never experienced mortal emotions in one so imbued with the magic of this realm.  He was quickly growing addicted, he realised, as he pumped in and out of her arse and pussy, but he didn’t care.

She was growing frustrated as he withheld her orgasm from her.  Inwardly, he smiled at what was to come.  Smiling was a human expression, and one his kind had learned to mimic over the years.  He found himself smiling with wicked anticipation whenever he thought about the approaching arrival of his offspring.

That would be when she finally gained her release.  He would of course immediately fill her back up with children, breeding her until her human form gave out.  He should get several years out of her however, given her upbringing in Faery.  Enough time for him to produce an army of his kind.  5-10 offspring would be produced every two days for around 5 years.  Within six months he would have the numbers to conquer faery.  After that, he would enslave the human realm to feed his young.

He wondered, amused, whether or not his little human was aware as her large breasts were sucked dry, her pussy filled and emptied rhythmically, and her whole bowel irrigated with his hot fluids.  He wondered if she knew her fate.  Humans across the world, and Fae, would remember her name and curse it. 

Odelina, mother of demons.


End file.
